


Newton Geiszler's Epic Date with the Apocalypse

by GloriaVictoria



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent to Drifting with a Kaiju Brain, Fistfight, M/M, Pacific Rim Uprising, Role Reversal, Suicide Attempt, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 12:49:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14497350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GloriaVictoria/pseuds/GloriaVictoria
Summary: In another universe, another possibility, Hermann Gottlieb transfers to Shao Industries, and Newton Geiszler has a date with the end of the world. It's honestly hotter than he'd have expected.





	Newton Geiszler's Epic Date with the Apocalypse

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the K-Science Bros Discord gang for putting up with all the sad shit I bombarded them with while writing this fanfiction. You da best.
> 
> TW: Suicide ideation/attempt, though the scene is brief and not graphic in the least.
> 
> ******* Like my work? Please consider supporting me with a Ko-fi! https://ko-fi.com/C0C5CWYM *******

Really, Hermann’s invitation should have tipped Newton off to something weird—after all, since when did he ever _willingly_ invite him into his space? Hermann had treated his side of their lab in Hong Kong like the goddamn Holy Land; he never took Newt up on dinner or drinks; he absolutely refused to allow him into his quarters. Now, after nearly ten years of no contact, Hermann had “cordially invited him” to visit in Shanghai. He actually had the _gall_ to use those exact words in the email.

What. The. _Fuck_.

First of all, _how dare he??_ No call, no email, not even a fucking wave on Facebook, and now all of a sudden His Majesty deigned to shower his attentions down upon him? Fucking bullshit.

Second of all, since when does he even _do_ this sort of thing? Did Shao put him through charm school? Did he piss off enough rich people to get himself lobotomized? Brainwashing?

Thirdly—thirdly, Newton had really gotten way too excited at the prospect of seeing Hermann again. That pissed him off too. He really had no business giving this much of a shit. After all, they weren’t friends. They fought constantly. The only time they could even stand each other’s’ presence was if they were fucking, except for—

_Except for when we Drifted, and he came in your room, and you held him for hours, and he kissed you and touched you and remade you, remember that? Hey, remember that?_

He didn’t want to remember that. Fuck.

Newt couldn’t lie to himself, for once—a part of himself (a big, loud, obnoxious, perverted part of himself) knew that he liked Hermann. Scratch that, that he Really Liked Hermann, in spite of all the shit they said and did to each other. To be fair, there was a lot to like if you could see past the stick up his ass. His hands, for example. Holy shit, Newton could watch them move all day—flying over his keyboard, gripping chalk in that particular way he had, the tendons moving under his skin. It was goddamn sexual.

Or his eyelashes, so long they batted against the lenses of his glasses when he pushed them up his nose. When they batted against his neck when he was pushing his legs back and---hmm. Yeah.

Or his legs. He low-key wished he could convince Hermann to wear jeans, just once.

Or his mouth, holy shit. He used to hate it with its thin lips and its never-ending sneer, but that was before he knew the kind of tricks it could do.

...This elevator was taking way too long.

Newt leaned his head back against the metal, shifting his weight back and forth from one foot to the other nervously. Should he play it cool? _“Oh, hey man, what’s up? Oh, you know me, just being awesome, as usual.”_ He’d play it cool, make it seem like he wasn’t as excited (desperate, needed so badly) to see him again. _That’d_ teach Hermann to ghost him.

The elevator doors finally slid open to reveal the most incredible laboratory Newton had ever seen (besides his own, of course.) Everything was top-of-the-line, state-of-the-art—even the fucking _light fixtures._ As soon as he stepped out, he nearly crashed into a pair of scientists who brushed past him on their way across the room. Nobody seemed to even notice his presence. _Excellent._ Newton immediately hurried to a terminal and took a look at the data streaming down the screen. Even without knowing the context, Newton found himself incredibly impressed. The rate at which they were crunching these numbers staggered him.

Then again, Hermann ran this place. Shouldn’t have surprised him at all. Number-crunching was kinda his thing.

“Good afternoon, Newton. So lovely to see you again.” A familiar voice made Newton jump like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. There stood Hermann, in—Newton blinked his eyes in disbelief—yeah, in a _suit._ Not just any suit, either: he’d had this tailored, because it fit in all the right places, contouring his slim silhouette perfectly. You couldn’t even see his wrists. He’d dressed in all black, save for a deep purple pocket square and matching tie. His shoes shone in the harsh light of the laboratory. The nerdy round glasses with the neck chain had gone too; instead, he wore sleek half-moon glasses that sat comfortably on the bridge of his nose.

Newton felt himself grow hot. For fuck’s sake, he was _salivating._

“Hermann! Holy shit, man, you look great.”  Hermann smiled thinly, his dark eyes crinkling at the edges.

“Thank you, Newton. That’s very kind of you.” Newton watched as Hermann brought his cane in front of him, folding his hands delicately over the handle. This, too, had been given a makeover. Instead of the old fashioned bronze piece, at the top sat the head of an eagle, crafted from a beautiful silvery metal. _Jesus,_ Newton thought. _Just fuck me up._ “You look like your old self. Are you well?”

“Haha, yeah, of course I am! Things have been great, man, just great.” Hermann’s eyebrow cocked upward in a way he had that made Newton feel two feet tall.

“Have they? I can’t wait to hear all about it, then.” Hermann looked to one of his assistants and asked her a question in Mandarin. His voice flowed over the complex sounds like water over rocks, and a shiver ran down Newton’s spine. They conversed for a few moments, then she hurried off. “My apologies. I wanted to make sure everything ran smoothly while we’re gone.”

“S-sure. No problem.” Newton, for once, found himself speechless. This entire experience had sent his brain into a tailspin.  

“Excellent. Shall we head out?” He pressed the elevator call button with a slender finger.

“Yeah, um...Hermann? Did they make you wear that suit or something?” Hermann scoffed.

“What? Of course not, Newton. I work for the most prestigious company in China, and arguably the world. Wearing ratty sweaters and scuffed oxfords doesn’t exactly fly here.”

“I...yeah, I guess that makes sense.” As...aesthetically invigorating as Hermann’s new look was, Newton couldn’t help but miss Hermann’s weird fashion sense. The two stepped into the elevator together, and Newton felt his stomach flip as they plummeted back down. “Where are we going?”

Hermann looked straight ahead, straightening his glasses with a little smirk. “I thought you might enjoy having a look at our xenobiology division. I took it upon myself to convince Shao Industries that investing in the study of Kaiju in addition to Jaeger tech would give us a leg up, as it were, over our competitors.” Newton sucked in a breath.

“You guys...have a whole _division_ dedicated to Kaiju?! Fuck, man, where do I apply?”

“Funny you should ask that question. I had a mind to recruit you, at one time.” Hermann chuckled. “Things have grown so quickly. The company struggles to keep up with its own development. As much as the division could have benefitted from your... unique perspective, I thought it best to avoid the inevitable conflict of interest between yourself and I.” Hermann chuckled to himself. “We did, after all, have the quaintest disagreements.”

“Right...” Newton chewed on his lip as the elevator slowed. His mind spun as he tried to get a grip on what was happening. _Something wasn’t right here._

The elevator finally stopped, and a sweet feminine voice crooned “12th Floor, Xenobiology” through the ceiling. “After you, Newton.” Hermann put his hand on Newton’s back and gently pushed him forward, and he felt his fingers on him long after he stepped into the laboratory. This one sported the same high-tech equipment, but instead of cold computers and servers lining the walls, scientists walked around carrying entrails, bones, skin samples... now _this_ felt familiar.

“Holy shit, Herm. This is _insane._ ”

“I thought you would approve. Come on. I’ll give you the grand tour.” Hermann took Newton around to all of his scientists, introduced him, let him have the run of the place. The PPDC hadn’t secured this kind of Kaiju material for him in years. Frankly, he wondered if _this_ explained it. Shao might have simply bought it all from everybody else.

“Hermann, this is badass.”

“Indeed. The floor below is the same, though they focus more specifically on studying the neurology of the Kaiju. Ever since our...little rendezvous with Otachi and the subsequent publication of our findings, I’ve wanted to explore the limits of that subject.”

“You have? Seriously?” Hermann grinned and slid a hand into his pocket.

“Does that surprise you? It seems you had more of an influence on me than I gave you credit for. Have you found yourself drawn to the study of numbers? Quantum mechanics? My old wheelhouses?”

“Well, Marshall Hansen stuck me on writing code for the new Mark 6 Jaegers, so I’ve kinda had to. But...yeah, now that you mention it, it has come easier than I expected.”

“A result of the Drift we shared.” Newton liked it when Hermann put it that way. _Shared._ “With further study of each other, I’m sure we’d find more of those interesting...exchanges.” Newton suddenly found himself acutely aware of how tight his jeans were.

“Yeah, haha...” Newton swallowed, his throat dry. “Hey, man, can we go get a drink or something?”

“Awfully early for that, don’t you think?”

“No, no, just like...water?” Hermann laughed.

“Of course. One moment.” Newton watched as Hermann himself walked down the alley of the laboratory and into a side room. After a moment, he returned with a bottle of water. “The lounge has plenty. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“T-thanks, man.” Newton screwed off the lid and drank deeply. Hermann’s eyes never left him.

“Shall we head to my office? We can talk more privately there.” Newton swallowed and closed up the bottle.

“Sure, sure. Man, an office, huh?”

“Well, I _do_ supervise these labs. I rarely have my hands on the research aspect of things, sadly. An occasional quality assurance check, for my peace of mind, has lately been the extent of my work.” Newton’s eyes widened and he scratched the back of his head quizzically.

“Really? Wow. I bet you’ve been awfully bored.”

“Not so much bored as...intellectually dissatisfied. The xenobiology division sprouted from that desire for stimulation, in fact.” Hermann once again led them to the elevator, and they headed up, up, up. _Bored._ Hermann had _never_ been bored back at the Shatterdome; he never _allowed_ himself to get bored—er, _intellectually dissatisfied_ , whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. The elevator grew stuffier and Newton loosened his tie.

“You know, what you’ve done here, Hermann...it’s really incredible. I knew when you took this job you’d blow it out of the water, but this place...”

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” Hermann’s lips curled upward into a delighted smirk. “Ms. Shao and I have worked tirelessly to streamline her vision.” He looked down at Newton bemusedly, as if smiling down on a child. “I take it Marshall Hansen instructed you to discuss the drone project with me.”

“He’s concerned about it, yeah.”

“He has every right to be. Marshall Hansen belongs to the old guard of the PPDC. It stands to reason that fully automated Jaegers would make him uncomfortable. I can assure you that the upcoming Council presentation will alleviate any of his misgivings.”

“I dunno, man. He’s pretty stubborn.” Hermann’s eyes hardened for a moment, and Newton found himself inching away.

“So am I.” After a long silence, Hermann chuckled, patting Newton on the back. “I’m sorry. I suppose I’m more passionate about this project than I initially expressed to you.”

“Yeah, you know...I’m kinda surprised.” The elevator doors opened before Hermann could answer and he stepped out into a long hall.

“The double doors at the end, Newton.” Hermann moved past him and began the walk to his office. “Surprised, you say? I don’t know why. You understand that if Shao Industries implements this program, it will save the lives of their Rangers. Not to even mention the impact on civilian casualties and collateral damage.”

“Well, yeah, Hermann, but...” Newton struggled to keep up with Hermann; since when could he _move_ so fast? “I dunno, you care so much about the Jaeger program.”

“That was before I watched Stacker Pentecost and Chuck Hansen blow themselves into oblivion, before I watched the Kaidonovskys and the Wei triplets die for nothing. A waste of life.” Hermann swiped a keycard and punched in a code when they reached the doors, which swung open wide. “After you, Newton.”

“Thanks, man.” Newton stepped inside the office and whistled. “Nice digs.” As he took a closer look around, something felt...off, though he couldn’t put his finger on what. Everything was put neatly away, as usual: books were alphabetized, paintings aligned on the walls, curtains crisply ironed. He glanced over Hermann’s desk and saw...nothing. Nothing of consequence: a container of pens and pencils, a nameplate in English and Mandarin, a large calendar, a stack of folders. A picture frame, face-down, stood out amongst all of the generic desk crap, but with Hermann right behind him, he felt weird just...snatching it and taking a look.

“Do have a seat, Newton, wherever you like.” Newton obliged, settling in one of the comfortable leather chairs stationed across from Hermann’s desk. “So—I assume Marshall Hansen plied you with a series of questions for me?”

“No, not really. He just wanted me to have a look at the program, if I got the chance.” Hermann leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers and looking at Newton over the rims of his glasses.

“You know I can’t let you do that. I would lose my job.”

“Well, _yeah._ I wasn’t gonna ask you to show me. But, hey, you could just leave it up on your computer and walk out for a minute.” Hermann didn’t laugh. “I see you’ve retained your sense of humor.”

Hermann’s eyebrow twitched. “I will not joke about the company’s well-being.”

“Clearly. Heh, still got it.”

“Yes, I believe you _do._ ” The frown on Hermann’s face slowly melted into a beautiful smile. “Newton...let me ask you a question.” Suddenly, Hermann was up, leaning over the table, _close._ Newton sucked in a breath. _Fuck...was this about to happen right here?_ “You didn’t just come here to do Hansen’s bidding, did you?

Newton shook his head, and suddenly he felt very sheepish, as if caught in a terrible lie. How the fuck did Hermann have this way of cowing him? After ten years, he’d only gotten _better_ at it.

“No, he sent me here as a favor to me.” Hermann smirked.

“As a favor to you.” he repeated, and picked up his cane where it leaned against the desk. With a degree of dexterity that Newton wouldn’t have expected, he twirled it in his hand before making his way around him. To Newton, it felt like being circled by a hungry vulture, but instead of being hungry for carrion, he got the distinct feeling Hermann was hungry for something else. He couldn’t really judge him. He was getting awfully thirsty himself, and Hermann kept getting closer _, closer, Jesus._  “Why exactly, then, _did_ you come?”

“To see you. ...It’s been ten years, Hermann. Well, technically eight if you count that one time we—“ Newton froze as the head of Hermann’s cane slid across his neck. “Hermann...”

"Ten years really is...such a long time." Hermann leaned down and slid his lips over his neck. "I see how you've been looking at me, Newton. I know...you want me."

"Fuck...Hermann..." Newton gripped the arms of his chair.

"Tell me you want me." A raspy whisper against his ear, a strong hand on his shoulder. Newton had planned on bringing this up, but...he hadn't expected office sex. Not that he was gonna complain. He'd go down on Hermann on a busy public street at this point.

"I want you, Hermann. _Yes_ , oh my God." As soon as the words left his lips Hermann grasped Newton's chin and tilted his head toward him, kissing him deeply. Hermann smelled of lavender and chamomile tea and _fuck_ , was he wearing cologne now? Shit, shit, shit....

"I assure you, the feeling is mutual." Hermann smirked against his lips. "Unfortunately, I have an engagement shortly. I know you'll join me at dinner, won't you?" Newton nodded frantically. Jesus Christ, he'd say yes to anything at this point. His jeans stretched painfully over his crotch and his chest heaved. "Excellent. I'll call you at your hotel room when I have made arrangements."

"O-okay. God, Hermann....I missed you so much." Hermann stroked Newton's hair gently, as if consoling a crying child.

"I know." Hermann rose to his full height. "Do you need help making it back to the lobby?"

"No, I--I remember how to get there." Hermann rose suddenly and Newton immediately lamented the loss of his touch. He cleared his throat and straightened his suit jacket coldly. “Hey—“

"Splendid. Expect my call." With that, Hermann turned on his heel and departed down the hall, leaving Newton alone in his dark, empty office. A feeling like dread--fear--washed over Newton suddenly, for reasons he couldn't quite pinpoint. He numbly made his way down to the lobby, out the doors and to his hotel, which luckily only stood a block away. He swiped his key and stepped into his tiny room, thinking of nothing but Hermann's eyes, Hermann's hands...

Something happened. Something happened to Hermann. Something had _hurt_ Hermann.

Newton dropped his bag and sat on the edge of his bed, his skin prickling like a ghost had run its fingers down his spine. That horrible feeling from before coiled and swelled inside him, constricted his breathing, brought a lump to his throat. The sun cut through his curtains, casting a blade of light across his lap, and Newton felt his body shaking. He choked back a sob and clenched his fists, fighting off the fear and channeling it into a far more satisfying emotion: determination.

_Fuck no. Not HIS Hermann._

He dug his phone from his jeans pocket with trembling fingers, punched in the number, and waited.

* * *

 

"Now...let me get this straight, Geiszler." Marshall Hansen grunted, his voice heavy with sleep. "You're tellin' me...Dr. Gottlieb is..."

"He's evil. He's like a fucking supervillain, dude. He's wearing suits now!! Suits!" Hansen went quiet on the other line for a long time. "Marshall? Hello?!"

"Geiszler....do you know what time it is here?"

"..." Newton looked at his watch. "Almost 1 AM..."

" _Yes._ I got to sleep an hour ago. And you're sitting here telling me that you think Gottlieb is evil because he wears suits."

"....I can see why you're irritated, Marshall, but--look, it's obviously more than that, okay?! The way he walks and talks, his...fuckin', his..."

"Geiszler. I'm going to bed. If you want to really pursue this line of reasoning, I will answer your call after I get some bloody sleep." Hansen hung up before he had a chance to argue.

Fuck. That went about as badly as possible. He had other friends, though.

He dialed Mako's number and got voicemail. "Mako! Listen, you gotta answer the phone, some crazy shit is going on here in Shanghai, okay? Hermann is like...a fuckin' supervillain now?? Okay, but for real, you gotta call me back, okay? Also this is Newt!" The recording timed out and Newton fell back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

He hoped he had just imagined it. He _really_ did. Because, like...what did it even mean to be evil this day in age? I mean, corporations were obviously evil as fuck, but Hermann didn't drink the Kool-Aid. He couldn't. Right?

Maybe the pressure had driven him insane? After all, Shao Industries represented the peak of technological innovation right now. Maybe...it had gotten too heavy for him. Hermann always had a way of biting off more than he could chew and then pretending he was fine. Newton knew this, because he was the same way. Couldn't be stress, though--Hermann didn't deal with stress by buying $500 suits.

So what, then? Newton didn’t want to face the reality that, yeah, maybe Hermann _had_ changed beyond recognition. Maybe he finally realized that his dumpy sweaters and his dumb haircut and his too-short trousers all made him look like a total loser, and he...

No. Not Hermann. Not stubborn, stuck-in-his-ways Hermann. The lobotomy theory made more sense.

 _Then what?_ Before he could think too hard about it, his hotel phone rang. Guess Hermann made their arrangements for dinner. He shuffled to the receiver and answered.

“Hermann?”

“Ah, no.” A silky, feminine voice that sounded like it was judging him replied. “This is Mr. Geiszler, correct?”

“Yep, that’s me. Who’s this?”

“Elaine Huxley, Dr. Gottlieb’s secretary. He wanted me to inform you that a car will arrive at 7:30 pm to transport you to the Waldorf Astoria for dinner.” Newton’s eyes widened.

“Fuck, for real?” Elaine went silent on the other line for a moment.

“...yes. For real.” She cleared her throat. “Please wear a suit. It’s a four-star restaurant. Dr. Gottlieb made sure to have me remind you.” Newton rolled his eyes; now _that_ sounded like Hermann. Maybe he had overreacted after all.

 _Hold up._ He had a _secretary._

“Hey, hey, Elaine! Listen, uh—when’s Hermann available tomorrow?”

“I’m sorry, I cannot just disclose Dr. Gottlieb’s information to anyone who asks.” Newton sighed audibly. “If you would like, you can ask him yourself.”  
  
“Right, right. Thanks, Ellie.” He could almost hear her teeth grind through the receiver. Hermann had really knocked it out of the park with this one. She was as fun to mess with as _he_ was.  She hung up without saying goodbye.

Newt hoped he had brought a suit, but what he had actually brought was an old blazer with a hole in the arm and buttons covering the lapels. Hermann wouldn’t approve, which in part made him want to wear it all the more. At the same time, he couldn’t piss him off _too_ much, or he might have him assassinated in a back alley. _If_ he was evil. Which he _was._ Maybe.

He changed his jeans and put on his nicer boots, rearranged his tie and threw on the blazer. Not bad, but definitely not Waldorf Astoria grade. Perfect.

7:30 finally arrived--Newton realized he'd really jumped the gun on getting dressed, but his anxiety (and excitement) had won out, as usual. Shao had obviously provided the car, and it kicked _ass_.  He hoped Hermann came with it. Making out with Hermann in a sports car ranked up there with meeting Patti Smith on his "Fantasies I Probably Can't Actually Make Happen" list. Unfortunately, no Hermann when he opened the door.

Newton had to think up a game plan before he made it to the restaurant. Hermann had a way of deflecting things, like a fuckin' AT field of condescension. How could he call him out in a way that wouldn't get him arrested or murdered? Or, alternatively...broken up with?  

That possibility scared him more than anything. ...they were still together, right? They had to be. Fuck, he could still feel Hermann's hand on his chin, his lips sliding effortlessly over his. He'd felt the same careful passion Hermann had always demonstrated before, albeit with a sprinkle of dominance that Hermann usually reserved for the bedroom. Nah, he had to... right?

They arrived at the Waldorf a hell of a lot faster than he'd expected, and he cursed inwardly. No time for a real plan. He'd have to wing it. The driver stepped out and opened his door.

"Thanks, dude." The driver said nothing. "Right." Newton made his way inside and found the restaurant. He could see Hermann at a table in the back, and his eyes widened. He'd somehow upped the ante on "absolutely stunning and delicious". His fucking suit had gold on the lapels. What the actual _fuck_?

Newton found that he was really struggling with the "evil" theory, mostly because his body didn't give a shit.

Hermann looked up from the menu and locked eyes with him as the waiter guided him back to their table. As he approached, his lips curled into that gorgeous smile he rarely showed off.  

"Newton. I'm so glad you're here. Please, sit down." He did so, scooting closer to the table as Hermann took a slow drink of his wine. "I hope you don't mind the location. I know it's a bit posh, but I wanted to make our first dinner in ten years special."

"Boy, yeah. You sure did." Newton chuckled nervously.

Not a peep about his clothes.

"Well, have a look at the menu. They have a lovely selection. Take your time, I've already ordered."

"Sure thing." Newton pretended to scan the menu, occasionally looking up at Hermann from over the top. He never stopped staring back.

"Newton, are you alright?" Hermann's brows knitted together in concern.

"Yeah, yeah....sorry, this whole thing, uh...it's kinda overwhelming."

Hermann chuckled and nodded, running his finger around the rim of his wine glass absentmindedly. Newton found his eyes wandering to them, because of fucking course he did, Jesus, could he think about _anything_ else? "I understand completely, Newton. I remember feeling the same way, but...it's as natural as anything now."

"Really? Man, I just never saw you as the suits and sports car kinda guy." Newton swallowed. "That being said, uh....the look suits you. Haha." Hermann smiled and Newton felt like he was staring down an apex predator.

"I never expected you to grow sentimental over the past. You were always looking to the future, Newton."

"Well...yeah, I guess so, but--"

"Then don't let this change upset you too much. I'd hate for it to put a damper on our relationship." A waitress brought Newton a glass of water and took his order, which he thoughtlessly rattled off. He didn't really care what he ate. He had more important things to think about.

"It doesn't, Hermann, it's just...look, you gotta understand where I'm coming from here. Ten years, we don't see each other, talk much at all...and now you're a..." Newt felt a sting of something he hadn't expected: jealousy. "You're a rockstar."

"The highest form of flattery, coming from you."

"Yeah, I know, which is why it's so fuckin'..."

"Strange?" Hermann's fingers now traced the stem of his wine glass, the tips dragging against the crystal lazily. _Focus, Newt. Is he actually trying to distract me?_

"Yeah. It's weird."

Hermann solemnly nodded, with an expression of what looked like regret. "I suppose you are cross. I should have kept better contact with you." He sighed and took another drink of his wine. "I wish I could help you understand how much work all of this ended up requiring. Ms. Shao demands nothing short of perfection from her company, and I demand it from myself."

"Yeah, I know." Newton smiled. _That_ sounded like the Hermann he knew.

Their dinner came, and the two of them continued to talk for quite a while. Newton felt better, but things still didn't add up. He couldn't figure it out--how could he be so much like the Hermann he'd known, and yet totally foreign?

"Newton..." Hermann said quietly, toward the end of their dinner. "I was wondering if you might consider coming home with me." He looked up at Newton and a shiver ran down his spine. He still got that electric rush when Hermann spoke to him this way, but his eyes...

Cold. Even as he placed his hand on Newton's, teased the inside of his wrist with his finger, his eyes felt like peering into a frozen lake. Deep, murky, fathomless.

All the same, how could he say no? Not only would this give him an opportunity to investigate, he...he wanted this. He wanted Hermann so badly he could barely see straight. Hermann had a way of letting Newton know, surreptitiously, that he needed him too, and he could feel it from across the gulf of the fine line tablecloth between them.

He might die, but hey--fortune favored the brave.

"Sure. I'd like that. A lot." Newton grinned and leaned forward, downing the rest of the wine Hermann had ordered him.

"I had hoped you'd say that."

* * *

 

Hermann had him up against the wall before he'd even closed the door. His mouth crushed against Newton's hungrily, his tongue sliding easily inside. Newton moaned and wrapped his arms around Hermann, his hands trying to find purchase as Hermann continued to press into him.

God. Fuck, yesyesyesyes--

"Newton..." Hermann put a hand in Newton's hair, gripping it just tight enough to ensure he couldn't move and tilted his head to the side. "You're as delicious as I remember." With that, Hermann leaned down and bit his neck, sucking it hard enough that Newton knew it would bloom with bruises. Fuck, was Hermann a _vampire_ ?? Newton didn't have time to look and see if Hermann had a reflection in the mirrors mounted on his wall, then remembered that only a silver mirror would--ohh, _fuck_ he was unbuckling his belt with those perfect hands and nibbling his ear.

"Hermann...Christ, babe..." Hermann smirked and wrapped an arm around Newton's waist, pulling him close enough that he could feel Hermann's cock against his leg through his expensive suit pants.

"Tell me...is this what you came here for, Newton? Is this what you want?" Newton nodded in spite of himself; rational thought had crawled under the porch and died at this juncture.

"Yes, fuck me, Hermann. Jesus Christ, please fuck me." Hermann moved his other hand to cradle Newton's chin.

"Still so good. Can you still take orders like a good boy?" Hermann let him go, taking his cane back into his hand. Newton hadn't noticed him put it down.

"Yes. Yes, sir."

"Have a seat on the bed, Newton." Newt looked around desperately for Hermann's bedroom door. "Up the stairs, Newton." He clambered up to the bed and kicked his shoes off, nearly popping a button as he tried to wrestle his jacket and shirt off at the same time.

"Hermann...hurry, okay?" Hermann stepped up right behind him.

"So impatient." Hermann smirked and sat in his desk chair, removing his cufflinks and tie. "Go on. Finish undressing yourself." Newton obeyed frantically, stripping himself down until he laid naked on Hermann's sheets--silk. Jesus, they felt good beneath him, sliding across the bottom of his thighs.

"Hermann--" he whined as he watched Hermann remove his suit jacket and hang it on the back of the chair. He rolled his sleeves up--oh fuck, his forearms...

"Good. Ah..." Hermann's eyes warmed for a moment, and Newton knew he'd finally found him. "Newton, you're so beautiful. As beautiful as I remember."

"Come here, Hermann. Please." Hermann moved to the bed and carefully climbed in, kissing Newton sweetly on the mouth, his hands roving all over his tattooed chest. Newt moaned, arching his back and pressing himself against Hermann's chest, which heaved with his breath.

"Tell me what you want, Newton." He murmured into his ear, pressing him back into the bed with one hand.

“I want you, I want you to fuck me, I want you inside me, please, _Hermann—_ “ At that, Hermann grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head back roughly.

“You have such lovely manners. ‘Manners maketh man.’” Hermann smirked down at him and Newton felt the slightest flicker of fear at the predatory look on Hermann’s face. “Lay on your stomach and I’ll give you what you want.” Newton obeyed because of course he did, he wasn’t going to stop now, couldn’t stop, didn’t _want to stop._ For a hot second, he wondered if this might be the end of him. “Keep your head down. No peeking.” Hermann slid his hand over Newton’s back as he laid there, panting and whimpering.

“Mmm, o-okay...” Newton buried his face in Hermann’s pillow. He could smell him, the same smell of lavender and tea and old books that he missed. He felt his eyes sting with tears. God, this made him so happy. It barely mattered that he knew something was wrong, something didn’t add up. This was right. This was what he’d missed for ten years: Hermann’s hands on him and his body close.

He heard Hermann open a drawer and close it, a soft popping noise, the snap of latex, and suddenly his fingers were on Newton, cold and slick circling his opening. Newton gasped and gripped the sheets.

“Now, now. Not too noisy...” Hermann clucked as he continued to tease, his free hand running along Newton’s inner thigh, fingers ghosting over his cock. He hadn’t even gotten a _finger_ in yet, for fuck’s sake. How had he gotten _better_ at this? Had he—

He’d been practicing. Newton tried to swallow that thought before it lodged a hot lump in his throat.

“Wider.” Hermann pushed Newton’s legs further apart with his knee before pressing a finger inside him. After that, Newton’s mind refused to function. Hermann opened him with great care, teasing and prying with his long fingers until Newton shook beneath him with want. When he finally removed his glove and discarded it on the table, Hermann pressed his body against Newton’s from behind, grinding his bulge against Newton’s sensitive skin.

“H-hermann...god-d-dammit, please stop...t-teasing me...”

“Teasing? I’m trying to make this comfortable for you. You don’t want that?” Hermann almost sounded like he was mocking him.  
  
_“I want you.”_ Hermann cocked his head to the side, and Newton heard another pop of plastic. Then, too quickly for Newton to really brace himself, Hermann was inside him, stretching him and filling him with that familiar warmth and stretch that he’d craved for so long. “Ahh! F-fuck...” Newt took a choked breath as Hermann grasped his hips hard, almost hard enough to make Newt wince.  
  
“Then take me.” Hermann put his hand on Newton’s head and gripped his hair tight, yanking his head up as Hermann _railed_ him into the bed. The pace and intensity threatened to take Newt’s breath away; even if Hermann had been practicing, Newton had only himself and his healthy collection of sex toys to deal with his needs. This...this always beat anything he could do for himself.

And yet...and yet...  
  
Hermann could never do this before. He could never push himself this hard on that leg. Newton had to avoid pushing into Hermann’s lap or risk causing him pain—his—his...  _shitfuckfuckshitfuckshit_  
  
Newton lost the ability to form cohesive thoughts around the time Hermann began biting his shoulders and back, both hands digging into his hips with a frightening strength. Newton just moaned and screamed—his ability to speak to Hermann in anything but guttural noises totally gone.  
  
“N-newton...” Hermann whispered, almost tenderly. No...wait— “Ah, Newton...I lov—ahh...”

“You wh-what? Unngh...” Tell me please tell me I need to hear it fuck I wanna hear it so bad  
  
Nothing after that. Hermann came and Newton took everything he had, shivering as his insides filled with that delicious heat he loved. Hermann said nothing. Not a fucking word as he gently pulled out of him, helped him clean himself, handed him his clothes, and went into the bathroom. The lock clicked. Newton sat on Hermann’s bed, totally and completely alone. He felt colder and emptier than he had in ten years.

* * *

 

After Hermann had disengaged him, Newton haphazardly threw on his clothes and limped his way back to the hotel room. He felt kinda weak--they hadn’t even gone in for seconds!--but hell, he supposed he did alright for 45 and nearly ten years with only a dildo for company. Besides, Hermann...his ability felt unnatural. Newton hadn’t questioned it in the moment, but in all honesty none of that entire experience added up.

How did Hermann perform like that? Why didn’t he stop to rest his leg? Why hadn’t he said anything about his clothes? Where the hell was that disapproving sneer that he loved throwing around? His snide commentary? Where was the way he rolled his eyes when Newton offended his sensibilities? How had he failed to offend his sensibilities in over 48 hours?

As much as Newton hated to admit it-- _god_ , he hated it--this man couldn’t be Hermann. But in that case, who the hell had taken his place?

After soaking in a hot bath for a solid 45 minutes, Newton finally remembered to check his phone. Thankfully, Mako had called back--and it hadn’t been that long! He didn’t even bother listening to her message. The phone rang for some time, but eventually, Mako answered.

“Hello? This is Secretary Mori.”

“Mako! Thank _God,_ listen--things are fuckin’ crazy right now.” Mako chuckled a little.

“Yes, I listened to the message you left me. You think Dr. Gottlieb is, um...evil?” Newton rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay, maybe it’s a _slight_ exaggeration, I know it sounds like something out of a fuckin’ comic book or something, but something is _not_ right about him. He’s acting like a totally different person. He’s _nice to me,_ Mako. Too nice. He’s wearing expensive suits and eating at bougie restaurants and has a secretary…” Newton slowed down after a bit of this. “Mako, he’s not my Hermann anymore.”

“I see.” Mako sighed softly. “I’m sorry. I’m sure this has disturbed you deeply.” She paused for a while. _She’s mulling it over to see if she wants to waste her time on my crackpot theory._ “Is there any way that you can continue watching him? I don’t want to put you in any danger, but I cannot make any sort of move officially unless you have hard evidence that he has done something to warrant your fears.”

“Yeah, I--I get that, Mako. I just _know._ You know? He’s not acting like Hermann. Hermann wouldn’t let all this go to his head.”   _Not like me,_ he thought wryly. In Hermann’s position, Newton knew what kind of an asshole he’d end up. “I’ll keep _both_ eyes on him. He’s not avoiding me, he seems to want to spend time with me, for the most part. I’ll use that to my advantage and smoke him out.”

“Alright. If you learn anything, come directly to me with the information. I won’t lie to you, I...find myself skeptical of your theory. I don’t want to cause any problems for the Council, for Shao Industries, or for Hermann if you’re wrong. But at the same time, the fact that you have contacted me at all concerns me. After all, you know Dr. Gottlieb better than anyone.”

“Mako, you’re the fuckin’ best. I’m gonna find you what you need, okay? I can prove I’m right, I know it.”

“I wish you luck, but...I hope you find nothing.” Newton swallowed, rubbing his sore jaw.

“Yeah...me too. You take care, alright?”

“You do the same. Good night, Doctor.” Mako hung up and Newton stared out the window aimlessly. The city glittered with a billion points of light in all directions, flickering like stars spattered across the black velvet of night. _Heh,_ Newton thought to himself. _That shit sounds like something Hermann would say._ He had finally given himself time to think about their evening together, the moment when Hermann left him on the bed alone, the feeling of his hands on his hips.

_Newton, I lov--_

Oh, fuck. Oh my god. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Something had stopped him from saying what he wanted to say. Newton’s mind furiously ground its gears, trying desperately to think of _something._ What kind of bullshit could control Hermann to that degree?

“Not a vampire. Body snatchers? Mind control. Telepathy. Social programming? Fuck. Fuck, come on...” Newton gently smacked his forehead with the flat of his palm. “ _Think, you piece of shit!”_

_I dunno, Newton, maybe he’s just a piece of shit now._

Newton couldn’t accept that. He _wouldn’t_ accept it. Not after all this time. Hermann didn’t just vanish and leave this cold, elegant, _incredibly sexy_ clone in his place.

Oh, shit, what if he was a clone?

Newton felt his mind slowing to a crawl as the minutes ticked by, and he realized how tired he’d become. He fell back into the pillows and covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes and his temples. He’d given himself a headache, dammit. Newton stared up at the ceiling for what seemed like forever, his mind replaying that moment again and again.

_Newton, I lov—Newton I lov—Newton, I love you, I love you, I love you._

He’d never had trouble saying it before. Hermann had told him a hundred times the night they’d Drifted. He’d repeated it like a mantra into Newton’s ear, whispered it into his skin, murmured it into his hair when they’d finished making love. Now, he couldn’t even finish the sentence?

Newton felt his eyes sting and he swiped his arm over them.

He needed to sleep. He rose from his bed and dug around until he found the bottle of miscellaneous prescription drugs he carried with him—never leave home without it! He poured it out into his hand and found a sleeping pill, popped it into his mouth, and returned to bed, swallowing it dry. From there, it didn’t take long for his body to shut down, the sound of Hermann’s voice in his mind lulling him to sleep.

_Newton, Newton, I love you…_

* * *

 

Newton woke to the sound of his phone buzzing next to his ear. “Five more minutes…” he grumbled into his pillow, feeling around blindly for his glasses before remembering that he'd fallen asleep with them on. Not terribly surprising, that happened all the time. Newton blearily checked his phone, and upon recognizing it as Hermanns office number, went to call back immediately--but something stopped him.

Why call him back? Hermann had chosen to play games with him the night before. Now he'd tried to call and apologize. Fuck him. What the hell gave him the right?? Before he had a chance to block Hermann's number, he remembered what Mako asked him to do and cursed. He couldn't just shut Hermann out if he was gonna figure out what happened.

Dammit, he really wanted to, though. What a dick.

 _Chill, Newton._ He thought to himself as he shuffled to the coffee maker. _Stay focused. Keep your eyes on the prize._

As he prepared his coffee, he tried to come up with a game plan. First of all, the office: he _had_ to keep some kind of incriminating bullshit in there. He could search it, but how to shake off Huxley? He hadn't met her yet but she sounded like a total asshole. What would she do if he just showed up? If she took a lunch break, that could give him enough time to find what he needed.

The apartment--another thing entirely. Hermann would likely have the only keys to his apartment, meaning he'd probably have to hack the keypad. Unless Hermann invited him in again. At that point, he’d have to find a way to look around without arousing Hermann’s suspicions. Last night, Hermann had kept him close-- _very_ close. Figuring out how to shake him in his own house posed a problem. Hacking it is.

As the coffee percolated, Newton finally conceded to calling Hermann back. Once again, his secretary answered.

“Office of Dr. Gottlieb. How can I help you?”

“Hey, Elaine, what’s up? Just returning Hermann’s call.” Huxley didn’t immediately answer and Newton stifled a laugh.

“Dr. Geiszler. Good morning.” She sighed softly. “Dr. Gottlieb had asked me to call and inquire about your availability this afternoon. He wants to have tea with you in his office.” Newt smirked. Let’s see how much Elaine really knew.

“No fucking way. Not after how he treated me last night. You can tell him to go fuck himself.” Huxley paused, and Newton could swear he heard nails clicking on her desk.

“I see. Then I will tell Dr. Gottlieb he should not expect you again. Goodbye--” Damn, she went in _hard._ Huxley wasn’t any fool.

“Wait, wait, wait. Elaine. Ms. Huxley. Look, I’m sorry, I’m just difficult. I’ll come have tea with Hermann, or whatever.”

“Goodbye, Dr. Geiszler.”

“Wait!” A click. “Goddammit!” Newton had overplayed his hand. He paced back and forth across his hotel room for ten minutes, trying to figure out how to resolve the situation. He had to get back in, but now Elaine had _clearly_ set herself against him. He cursed her, imagined she must be the ugliest, meanest old broad in the world. He definitely didn’t imagine this to make himself feel better about the tiny voice in the back of his head that told him she might be fucking Hermann. Nope. Definitely not. 

Okay, but _wasn’t that what evil secretaries did, though??_

A knock at his door startled Newton out of his thoughts. He quickly grabbed his T-shirt off the floor and pulled it on over his bare chest. “Just a second--oww, fuck!” He winced as he stubbed his toe on the dresser on his way to the door. These Chinese hotel rooms always ran so damn small…

On the other side of the door stood Hermann, dressed far more casually than before. He almost looked normal, save for the fancy cane and the fashionable glasses. Newton nearly had a mind to slam the door in his face, but remembered that he’d already nearly fucked this up once.

“Hermann, hey. What, um...what are you doing here?”

“Elaine told me you weren’t happy with me.” Newton’s eyes widened. _Shit,_ she worked fast. How’d she call him so quickly? How’d he _get_ here so quickly?

“Y-yeah, well, maybe I’m not.” Newton sneered and crossed his arms. “You literally fucked me and ran. What the hell was up with that?”

Hermann looked down at the floor penitently. “I know. I’m sorry, Newton. I did not consider your needs at all.” He sighed, turning his cane in his hand. “I would like to try and make it up to you, if you’ll let me. I know I have no right to ask your forgiveness.”

Newton sighed and rolled his eyes. “Look, Herm, I’m not gonna kick you to the curb, it just...sucked, you know? I don’t get why it happened. You’ve never been like that before.” Newton looked back at Hermann and locked eyes with him. Hermann looked so vulnerable, like a penitent child. “Can you just--I dunno, tell me what happened?”

“Will you come have tea with me?” Hermann pled, extending one hand out to Newton.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re deflecting me?” Newton took the hand all the same. Hermann’s tightened around it. His fingers were so cold…

“I’m not deflecting, I’m asking you to come speak with me somewhere more comfortable. Somewhere we can really have a conversation.” Herman ran his thumb gently over the top of Newton’s hand. “Please.”

“Ugh, alright. But you’re gonna answer my question!” Hermann smiled in relief.

“Alright. Do you need a ride?”

“Nah, I can walk. Hey, tell your secretary to back off, she’s been a real asshole.” Hermann chuckled.

“I’ll mention it to her. I can’t make any promises; she’s a bit bullheaded. Not that we’d know anything about _that,_ now would we?” With that, Hermann turned and went back down the hall. As he stepped into the elevator, he smiled at Newton and he felt his heart skip a beat. That earnest charm of his got Newt every damn time.

At least he’d salvaged himself a way back into Hermann’s office. If he could just play it cool, maybe he could slip past Hermann’s watchful gaze and--

Play it cool? Newton almost laughed. Right. Okay.

* * *

 

Newton and a woman who couldn’t possibly be anyone else but Elaine Huxley stared each other down in the atrium outside Hermann’s office, Newton’s face curled into a defiant sneer, Elaine’s placid and unfeeling. Her eyes shone with disapproval.

Newton immediately disliked her. First of all, she’d been _super_ rude. What the fuck did she have shoved up her ass? Definitely a Hermann move to put someone as stubborn and immovable as him in charge of gatekeeping his office. But that wasn’t the worst thing about her. The _worst_ thing about her was that she was a stone cold fox, and despite knowing conclusively that Hermann would never touch her, never even _look_ at her twice, he felt insanely jealous. Hermann had this beautiful woman sitting out here every day for years, within constant reach, while Newton couldn’t even remember the last time they’d spoken before he’d come to visit.

“Can I help you?” she said at last, looking back down at her desk calendar. “Do you have an appointment to see Dr. Gottlieb? _God, what a bitch._

“You know damn well I do. You called me this morning.” Elaine arched a perfect eyebrow and pushed a strand of fiery red hair behind her ear.

“Let me check the calendar. Please have a seat.” Newton clenched his fists in frustration and sat, feeling compelled to start throwing the magazines on the table beside him at her perfect face. _Gotta keep my mouth shut, keep your mouth shut, Newton, don’t fuck this up…_ “Oh, yes. Dr. Geiszler.” Elaine looked up at him with a pedantic smile. “It’s lovely to finally meet you in person. I thought you’d be taller.”

Well, so much for shutting up.

“Listen here, _Elaine_ ! I don’t know what the _fuck_ your problem is, but I didn’t do a goddamn thing to you!” Before Elaine had time to respond, Hermann stepped out of his office.

“Newton? Is everything alright?” Hermann looked over at Elaine, and Newton saw...something pass between them. Wordless, without gesture, only in their eyes. It reminded him of the first time he’d looked at Hermann after their Drift with the Kaiju brain in Hong Kong. Understanding.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Gottlieb. Dr. Geiszler just...started yelling at me.” Elaine smiled wider, narrowing her eyes for a moment at Newton. _You fucking asshole, you piece of shit fucking goddamn--_

“It’s quite alright, Elaine. It’s more than likely my fault. Newton, please don’t take your frustration at me out on Ms. Huxley. Can we talk more inside?” Hermann reached his hand back into the office, beckoning Newton to come inside.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Newton rose and entered the office, sticking his tongue out at Elaine before the door closed.

“Really, Newton. What did she ever do to you?” Newton rolled his eyes.

“Oh, come on. Really? She’s doing that thing where she’s a total jerk to me and then plays the victim. Classic villain technique.”

“Villain?” _Oh, shit._ Shut _up._

“W-well, you know, just like...gaslighting, dude. It’s a dick move.” Hermann chuckled.

“I’ll admit, Elaine can be coarse at times. She just takes her job very seriously, much like myself.” On his desk, Hermann had set out an electric kettle and a few boxes of tea. Beside it sat a small plate of assorted cookies. Newton remembered when Hermann would keep those same cookies in his left desk drawer, sneak a hand down into it for a snack as he worked on his calculations. “Help yourself. I'll have the tea done soon.” Hermann knelt down carefully and pulled a teapot out of a cabinet behind his desk.

Newton grabbed a cookie and munched on it. “Okay. So what the fuck happened last night?” Hermann poured the hot water from the kettle into the teapot and added the tea leaves, lips pursed.

“...Newton, it's been ten years since we've even touched each other. Honestly, I…” He sighed, his cheeks flushing. “I balked.”

“You what now?”

“I chickened out. I didn't want to presume anything more about our relationship than what had thusly been established between us here, and I…” Hermann sat in his chair, leaning his cane against the desk. Newton saw genuine pain in his eyes, and his lips twitched as if he held something captive behind them. “I should have explained myself, but I...chose the coward's route.”

Newt sighed. “Look, dude, if you aren't aware, I'm fucking smitten with you. In love. Have been for years. And I operated under the assumption you felt the same, since you--” Newton remembered all the times Hermann had whispered those words into his ear and bit another chunk off his cookie.

“Newton…” Hermann sat his teacup down, and Newt watched a change come over his face. The hardness around his eyes softened, the taut lines around his mouth relaxed. He watched something Newton could only describe as sorrow wash into the depths behind Hermann's eyes. “I'm sorry. You don't...you don't know what's gone on here. God, I wish I could tell you.”

“Hermann. You can tell me anything.” Newton leaned over the desk and looked him right in the eyes. “Seriously. Please, you've been acting super weird and I just wanna know why.”

His eyes changed again and Newton felt a shiver run down his spine. He felt like some frightened rodent looking into the eyes of a hungry snake.

“I could tell you, but it'd be so much easier to show you.” Newt swallowed, knowing with a sickening certainly that he was walking right into a trap.

“Then show me.” Hermann picked up the phone and punched a button. After a moment, he spoke again.

“I need everyone to vacate the lab. I'm demonstrating for a new client, and I don't want the lab cluttered with noise.” He paused. “There are other labs. The drone teams needs extra help, send them there. Yes. Good.” Hermann hung up and smiled at Newton with all the guile of a crocodile. “Shall we?”

* * *

 

 

As Newt and Hermann rode the elevator down, down, down to the laboratories, he wondered why the hell he hadn't written a will yet, because for some odd reason, he felt like he just might need one soon. Like, today.

Well, that shit was obvious. Who the hell would he leave his stuff to? At one time, probably Hermann.

Ouch.

Newt snuck a look at Hermann, who stood like a monument with his cane before him, hands clutching the head with a vice grip. Was he nervous, too? Shit, that scared Newt even more. What was down there that Hermann wanted to show him? A fuckin’ body? Did Hermann turn into a serial killer? Was he on some Hannibal Lecter shit?

“Newton. You look distressed.” Newt cleared his throat and looked away.

“I guess I'm just kinda... anxious? You're being awfully mysterious right now.”

“I'm sorry. I'd rather just talk when we're alone. I promise things won't stay so cryptic.” Hermann placed a hand on the small of Newton's back and he felt heat crawl up his neck. “Never fear.”

“Fear? You? Heh, no way.” Newton lied through his fucking teeth.

“I'm glad to hear that, Newton. I think you'll enjoy what I'm about to show you.” The elevator slowed to a stop, and the doors slid open. The scientists and technicians had dimmed the lights, and the tanks of Kaiju parts cast an eerie glow on the room. Newton felt as if he had stepped into a horror movie, and he had to steel himself to step in after Hermann.

“This way, Newton.” Hermann gestured down the hall and Newton followed him. Eventually, they faced a blank wall and Newt raised an eyebrow.

“Uh...wait, holy shit. Is this a secret room?” Hermann smirked and pressed a panel on the wall. A keypad appeared, and he typed in a series of numbers--Newton tried to keep up, but after the fifth or sixth he lost track. Knowing Hermann, the bastard didn’t have it written down anywhere. He had a memory for numbers like a steel trap.

The wall opened up into a much smaller laboratory, just a couple of tables and chairs with chemistry equipment. On one wall hung a chalkboard that stretched across the wall and at least four feet high. Some things never changed, I guess. To the left of them was an area shielded by a white curtain, almost like one might fight in a hospital. From underneath it, several wires and cords emerged and hooked into Hermann’s computer and another machine.

A Drift machine. ...What the fuck was going on here?

“I’ve been working on a personal project that I think you might appreciate. However, due to its controversial nature, I’ve decided to keep it a secret from the company. If it bears fruit, then so much the better. If not, then I’ll clean this up and seal it shut. Nobody needs to know.” As Newton spoke, he looked closer at the curtain, trying to ascertain what exactly stood behind it. He heard the soft bubbling of liquid, and on the floor he saw a Pons headset (much more modern in style that what he’d handled).

“Hermann, uh...what’s the Pons hooked up to?”

“See for yourself.” As Hermann pulled the curtain away, Newton’s eyes widened in...awe? Horror? Excitement? All of the above, honestly.

“Did you...Drift with this Kaiju brain?”

“I did.” Hermann’s face beamed with pride. “After we drifted with the Kaiju brain, I formed a hypothesis regarding the applications of further Drifting with the Anteverse hivemind. Unfortunately, the PPDC had neither the funds nor the interest to get it off the ground. I call it the Anteverse Link Integration and Communication Experiment. ALICE, for short.” Hermann pressed his hand against the glass, almost lovingly. “I’ve recorded my Drift experiences for several years now, collating the data and looking for patterns. I’ve wondered: if humans experience lasting effects from the Drift, wouldn’t the Anteverse as well?”

“ _This_ is why you left?” Newton looked over at him.

“Yes. I left because my research would have died in that PPDC lab. Surely you of all people can understand.” Newton watched the brain writhe and shiver, as if responding to Hermann’s touch. He _did_ understand, but that didn’t make him like this. Drifting with a Kaiju brain? Decidedly _not_ a Hermann thing to do, but then again, things had changed. He worked for a company that demanded innovation, and Hermann could provide that with his brilliant mind and dedicated work ethic.

Newton’s mind buzzed, trying to justify all the pieces of what he was seeing. All roads led to one conclusion: _this wasn’t right._

“I brought you here because I thought you would understand how this research could break new ground in Jaeger development.

“Wait, wait, wait, Hermann. The Breach...we closed the Breach, Hermann. The Kaiju aren’t coming back.” Hermann laughed softly.

“Come now, Newton. You really think that we defeated the Precursors ten years ago? You think they’re satisfied with letting us be, after humiliating them with our stunt? No. They’re not finished with this world. We have to use every advantage we can to--”

“ _Hermann._ Fuck, listen to yourself, dude! This isn’t--this isn’t you! It’s more _me_ than you, and I don’t even know if _I_ would do this!”

“More you than I?” Hermann moved closer to Newton, putting his hand on the back of Newton’s neck. “Well, we _did_ Drift. You mean to tell me that you haven’t noticed myself inside your mind? Affecting your habits? Changing your perspective?” Newton shifted uncomfortably, trying to fight the urge to jerk away from Hermann, heart thumping in his ears.

“No, I--yeah, I’ve noticed. I alphabetized my records last week. _You Drifted with a Kaiju brain._ A little different in scope, don’t you think?” Hermann stepped back, disappointment set in his face.

“Perhaps it’s best if you leave, then, Newton. I can do this alone, if need be. It was a mistake to bring you here.” With that, Hermann turned around, moving toward his computer. “I’m sorry for upsetting you.” Newton felt his head swim. What could he do? He knew that this constituted more than enough of an anomaly to report to Mako and Hansen, but...did he want to? Hermann clearly had changed, but maybe he wasn’t _evil._ Maybe what he read as malevolence had simply been the product of loneliness and genius.

He couldn’t leave him. Not like this.

“No, Hermann. I’m not going.” Hermann turned around, his eyes full of something akin to hope.

“You won’t?”

“No. If you want my help with ALICE, then I’ll help.” Newton swallowed hard as Hermann approached him, taking his face into his slender hands.

“I knew. I knew you would see the importance of my work.” Hermann leaned down then and kissed him, so sweetly that Newton worried that his knees might buckle. He felt Hermann’s lips ghost over his ear and the Pons headset slip around his head. “Just wait until you’ve seen what I’ve seen, Newton.”

“H-hermann, I don’t want to--” Before he had a chance to protest, he felt himself slip into the familiar rush of the Drift, his mind splitting open like a cracked egg as he felt a hundred thousand fingers picking apart his mind. He heard himself scream, distantly, and then he heard something that made his blood run cold. A voice with the quality of steel scraping across stone spoke to him, called him by name.

_NEWTON. WELCOME HOME._

* * *

 

Newton woke in Hermann’s bed, still dressed in the clothes he’d worn. His head felt as if he'd made out with a cannonball, and his legs tingled, as if they had fallen asleep along with the rest of him. As his mind slowly woke, he nuzzled his face into the pillow beneath his head, breathing in Hermann's smell.

_Hermann. Ohmygodohmygodohmygodoh--_

He remembered what happened and stumbled into Hermann's bathroom, collapsing over the toilet and emptying his stomach. When he finished, he wiped his mouth with the back of his shaking hand, leaning his head against the cold tile wall behind him.

He'd been right, after all. Right, and _so wrong._

“Evil” didn't really describe what Newton had heard in the minds of the Precursors. He likened it more to the cruel precision of a scalpel, the organized malice of a pack of wolves. It reminded him of the way a sniper might gaze at their victim through their scope before pulling the trigger: calculating, heartless, efficient.

Everything made so much sense now. Hermann had stared into the Abyss with him in Hong Kong, and the Abyss had looked back. More important, it had understood what it was looking into: a crass, scatterbrained idiot that couldn't remember where he put his room keys and blasted rock music so loud it scarred his eardrums, and Hermann, the embodiment of order and intellect.

They had made the obvious choice.

“Fuck… _fuck!!”_ Newt slammed his fist against the floor, eyes stinging with angry tears. Ten _fucking_ years and he didn't _once_ question a goddamn thing. Moment after moment of confusing behavior, clipped emails and texts, unanswered phone calls all sprung to his mind, tallying up the number of times he'd failed Hermann. _Failed him. Failed._

Newton's anger suddenly shifted away from himself as he remembered the things he'd seen in the Drift. Yeah, gazing into the eyes of a million bloodthirsty aliens had...scared him. Any fear he felt, however, paled in comparison to the indignation growing hot in his belly at what _Hermann_ had experienced. Little spidery motherfuckers had not anticipated the degree to which Hermann had imprinted himself on their consciousness, because of course they didn't. _Two-way street, you ignorant shits._

The image that stuck with Newton most clearly haunted him long after he'd showered, washed his face, shook out the sleep from his clothes. In his Drift vision, he saw Hermann by his window, which he'd thrown wide open. He had stepped up into the windowsill and stared at the 45-story gulf between his office and the concrete. Through the Drift, Newton could see his lips move wordlessly, but he didn't have to hear what Hermann had said to know what it meant. He could viscerally feel Hermann struggling between the urge to close that gap and the voices commanding him to move away and get back to his work. He could feel the wind whipping against the tears in his eyes, chapping his wet cheeks. All of this, in a split second, from a brain that didn't even belong to Hermann at all.

Which begged the question: how often had he Drifted with the goddamn brain? How many times do you have to Drift with a million consciousnesses before you start rubbing off on them?

He didn't want to know, but he knew he'd learn if he kept following Hermann down this rabbit hole.

Newton reached for his phone and shoved it into his back pocket before descending the stairs into Hermann's living space. The last time he had come, he'd had his face pressed too far into Hermann's mattress to really look around. As ever, it epitomized order and cleanliness, but with a distinct lack of character. Something seemed off about it all, like a ghost had furnished the place.

He started scanning around the room once he'd confirmed that Hermann wasn't there with him, searching for anything that might hold clues about what had happened here. Most everything did not: for all intents and purposes, it looked like any apartment out of a fancy home decor magazine. He pulled out cabinets and drawers, most of which held nothing but some bills and assorted paperwork. One had a handful of hard candy, Hermann's favorite, shoved in the very back.

“You grandpa.” He muttered, trying to ignore the pang of sorrow in his chest.

The kitchen revealed nothing either, except for the fact that Hermann ate like a fucking rabbit. The Hermann he knew had a powerful metabolism, despite appearing frail. He liked eating, a fact that they bonded over in their old letters. This wasn't a fridge stocked by Hermann Gottlieb. Maybe Hermann Gottlieb’s sad vegan brother. His _evil_ vegan twin.

“Come on, come _on._ You live here, dammit. There has to be _something._ ” Newton looked back into the bedroom and noticed a laptop on the table.

No fucking way Hermann had been _that_ careless. That _screamed_ a trap, an irresistible temptation that would no doubt immediately alert Hermann to the fact he'd snooped.

He sat down at Hermann's desk and opened it anyway. “Fortune favors” and all that.

In the long front drawer sat typical desk things: several pens, all of them embossed with Hermann’s initials in gold; a pad of Post-It notes; some stray paper clips and things like that, things Hermann would want on hand. He tried to grope back into the depths of the drawer but found nothing. Jesus, he wished his hands would stop shaking.

The larger drawers yielded more interesting items. First and foremost, a sweater. _His_ sweater, that horrible giant cardigan that made him look like his grandmother. Newton picked it up and held it to his face, rubbing it against his cheek before putting it back exactly as he'd found it. Hermann would have been proud of his attention to detail.

Underneath of that, a small rack containing several thumb drives, each a terabyte in size. _Fuck,_ those were gonna take a while to get through, and even more difficult to get his hands on. Hermann would notice _immediately_ if one was missing, and since he’d left all his stuff in the hotel, he wouldn’t be able to transfer it. Honestly, he couldn’t believe Hermann still used the fucking things, but then again, he probably didn’t want his master plan floating around in the Cloud.

Behind the thumb drives, a series of hardback leather notebooks, swollen with Hermann’s handwriting. Now, _there we go._ Newt grabbed the first one and began hastily turning pages, using his phone to take photos as he worked. His gaze torn between the door and his work, he didn’t get a close look at much, but based on what he _did_ see, it looked like a journal of sorts, part mathematical equation, part diary.

 _4.30. 2034: Calibrating the neural interface between myself and A.L.I.C.E yielded no--_  
_  
_ 5.1.2034: Shao’s final draft of the coding for the drones needs cleaned up, unsurprisingly--

_6.14.2034: I tried to call Newton today--_

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Newt froze on this page upon seeing his name in Hermann’s (beautiful) handwriting. He put his phone down, sat in Hermann's chair.

_6.14.2034: I tried to call Newton today. Again. They wouldn't let me. I dialed the number a thousand times._

_They're probably right. He won't want to speak to me. After all this time? He's moved on. After twenty years, our orbit has broken, at last._

_I miss him. But I’m comforted by the fact that soon, I won't miss anything anymore._

….What the fuck did _that_ mean? Newt felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Whatever Hermann had done, whatever he planned to do, Newton needed to find out fast.

Carefully, Newton finished taking photos of the remainder of Hermann's notes, then secured the band around the notebook and slid it back into his desk. Newton felt his stomach churn, its contents a cocktail of unpleasant emotions.

His phone rang, and he answered it blindly.

“This is Geiszler.”

“Good morning, Dr. Geiszler.” _Elaine._

“Hey, Ellie, how's it hanging?” He poked at her, but she didn't reciprocate for some reason. Weird.

“Dr. Gottlieb asked me to check on you. He said you passed out in the laboratory last night.” Newton stifled a snort. Right, “passed out.” “He apologizes for not calling himself. He's in several meetings today.”

“Uh, yeah, I'm fine. Hey, when do you think he'll be done?” Elaine paused for a moment.

“His last meeting should end sometime after 3.” Newton frowned, his suspicions aroused even more.

“Huh. Thought you said you couldn't give out his information like that, Ellie.”

“Dr. Gottlieb has instructed me to tell you whatever you need to know, within reason.” Newton realized suddenly that the events from last night had granted him something valuable: Hermann's trust. He expected Newt to be on his side now. He'd revealed his hand--at least part of it, and Newt understood that if he played along, he might just get everything he needed.

He swallowed hard. That probably meant more Drifting with that fucking brain. He'd have to convince Hermann that he wanted it.

“Thanks, Ellie. You're a real peach.” Elaine hung up, and Newton propped his glasses up into his hair, running his hands over his face.

This shit just got a hell of a lot harder.

Newton had taken one acting class in college, as an extra credit he had to fulfill to graduate. He barely passed. Now, his life and Hermann's, and who knows how many others, depended on him fooling Hermann Gottlieb, one of the most observant, insightful men he'd ever known.

 _Fuck,_ he was screwed. Literally _and_ metaphorically. Haha.

* * *

 

 

Three o’clock rolled around, and Hermann Gottlieb unlocked his office door to find Newt sitting in his chair, his lips upturned into a smirk and his eyes glazed over with a look of unadulterated want.

At least, that's what Newton _hoped_ Hermann saw. He'd practiced in the mirror for an hour at least.

“Newton.” Hermann smiled, moving closer slowly, like a lion approaching its prey. “I'm glad to seen you so soon. I worried about how the Drift affected you.”

“Yeah, heh.” Newt cocked an eyebrow, trying to look casual despite the fact that his heart felt like it would bust through his sternum. “What a rush, huh?”

“You enjoyed it? It does have… a certain appeal, doesn't it?” Hermann walked around his desk to stand beside Newt, running his deft fingers through his hair the way Newt liked.

"Tell me more about ALICE.” Newt leaned into Hermann's touch, taking his free hand and sliding his thumb along his pale wrist. Hermann chuckled.

“My, my. Impatient as ever.” Hermann leaned down and kissed Newton, sliding his tongue inside and gripping his hair. Newt responded immediately, wrapping his arms around his neck.

“ _Hermann…_ ” At least he didn't have to pretend for this part.

“Hm?” Hermann traced the line of Newton's jaw with his fingertips. “What is it, _mein geliebter?_ ”

“Fuck, Hermann. I've missed this.” Newt pressed his forehead firmly against Hermann's as if he could push whatever had gone wrong out by sheer will. “I missed hearing your voice inside my head.” Hermann nuzzled his neck, breathing hotly on his skin.

“I assure you, the feeling is mutual. Even indirectly, through ALICE, I could…” Hermann trailed off, his eyes hazy and unfocused.

“Hermann,” Newt whined and pressed his lips against Hermann's again, grabbing him by his belt loops and tugging hard.

“I doubt Ms. Huxley would appreciate the noise if Ii--”

“I don't give a shit.” Newt grabbed Hermann by the front of his shirt and kissed him hard, crushing their lips together. “I want you to fuck me. Right now. On your desk.” Hermann seemed taken aback by that for a moment.

“Newton…” Hermann’s lips curled into a smile. “Very well. Stand up, and I'll deliver.”

As soon as Newton made it to his feet, Hermann turned him to face the desk, one hand on Newt’s hip and the other pressing him down against the burnished wood. Newt looked up, trying to keep his wits about him as long as he could, trying to examine the room for anything weird or out of-- _hooooly shit, fuck fuck fuck--_

Hermann had deftly unbuckled Newton's belt and yanked his jeans and boxers down, sliding his hand over his ass and giving it a fond squeeze. “You're so beautiful, Newton.” He murmured, and after a moment, he felt Hermann’s fingers inside him, slick and wet with lubricant that sent a surge of heat through him. _Haaaah,_ he'd gotten the good shit. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Hmmmhhhahhh….Hermann…” Newton only had to exaggerate a little; he was having a terrible time staying focused and this felt _way too good._

“Wonderful.” Another finger, and Hermann began fucking him in earnest, stretching him open while keeping his other hand anchored on the desk. Newton felt his cock strain against the edge of the desk and he pushed back against Hermann's fingers impatiently.

 _“Now, Hermann.”_ He growled and reached back, grabbing Hermann's wrist.

“Of course, love.” Hermann pulled his fingers out and, after only a moment to prepare himself, pushed into Newton to the hilt.

"Aah--” Newt hissed at the sting and gripped the edge of the desk as Hermann pushed him forward. “Fuck…” He tried to keep his voice down, knowing Elaine sat just outside. On the other hand, that made this more fun. He kinda liked the idea of her having to listen to Hermann rail him into next week.

“God, Newton… you're so sweet.” Hermann's hand crawled up his back, grasping his hair again as he snapped his hips into him. Newton let out a keening moan as Hermann picked up his pace, his eyes unfocusing.

“Hermann...do you--nnhh, do you l-love me?” Newton managed to pant in between moans and gasps for air. He'd meant it as a test of Hermann's consciousness, but deep down, Newt needed to know.

“Did you really doubt it?” Hermann whispered smoothly, moaning as his hips began to stutter into Newton. Newt wouldn't last either; he'd lost some of his stamina over the years, unfortunately. He’d have rather this went longer.

“Ah, fuck, fuck... Hermann, oh my god!” He covered his mouth with his arm as he came, shuddering, making a mess on the shiny surface of Hermann's desk. Hermann fucked him right through it before he finished as well, letting out a shuddering sigh and resting his forehead against Newton's back.

“H-hermann…” Newt laughed breathlessly. “Hope you're gonna buy me dinner after that. You're not...gonna love me and leave me, right?” Hermann pulled out of Newton and turned him over onto his back, looking down at him adoringly.

“Of course not, Newton. Perish the thought.” As Hermann leaned down to kiss him, Newton couldn’t help but think to himself:

_He didn’t say ‘yes’._

* * *

 

 

“Newton…” Mako hesitated on the other line, and Newton waited for it. He’d called her as soon as he and Hermann had finished dinner, which consisted largely of Newton trying not to feel guilty for lying to a man that had deceived him for ten years. _Not him,_ he’d thought to himself. _Not Hermann_.

He waited for her to say he’d lost his mind, but she didn’t.

“I know it sounds totally wacko crazy, but I’m telling you the truth. He Drifted with a Kaiju brain and he’s conducting...experiments? I’m skeptical that they’re even experiments, I think he’s constructed this fucked up reality around himself to justify the fact that he’s--he’s--” Newton made a noise of indignation. “I don’t know _what_ he’s doing yet, but I’m going to find out, okay?”

“Newton, I know you’re probably very frightened, but did you consider that Shao could have asked him to conduct these experiments secretly? To avoid suspicion?”  
  
“No, no, no, _he_ told me that she doesn’t know. He’s hiding it from her!”

“If he cannot be trusted, as you say, that could easily be a lie.” Mako sighed softly. “The Council will meet at the end of the week to vote on the drone resolution. I’m very disturbed by what you’ve told me, but I’d need concrete evidence to present to them to eliminate Shao Industries’ stake in this discussion. If you can do that--”

“Listen, I’m on it. He had me Drift with it too and--”

“ _What?_ ” Newt cursed and backpedaled.

“No--look, it’s ok, I’m fine. It didn’t do anything but give me a bustin’ headache, but look--Hermann thinks that I’m on his side. I can use that to my advantage. I just gotta get closer to him, get him to spill or give me access to his files, and as soon as he does, we’re golden. Okay? Mako?”

“...Alright. You’re sure the Drift didn’t affect you?”

“Yes, absolutely. Positive.” _Mostly positive._

“Alright. Newt, please be careful. I’m scared that you’re going to lose yourself in this, and I can’t afford that.”

“Aww, Mako, you’re too kind.”

“Newt, you mean a lot to me. Hermann too. You’re like my family.” Newton swallowed hard, remembering the little girl he carried on his shoulders through the Shatterdome, the little girl Hermann sat on his lap, feeding his grandpa candy to and demonstrating quadratic equations. That seemed like such a long time ago, and so far away from what he’d experienced over the past few days.

“Listen, you don’t need to worry, Mako. I’m gonna get him back. I promise.” He answered firmly, his resolve strengthened.

“Thank you, Newt. Good luck.” Long after they said their goodbyes, Newt sat on his bed, turning his phone in his hands. He knew several things would have to happen to make this work. He'd have to carefully bleed information out of Hermann, slowly enough that he didn't arouse his suspicions but quickly enough to give Mako a fighting chance to act. He'd have to keep up this evil act, but not overplay it to the point where a Hermann would recognize a fake.

And he'd have to Drift with ALICE again, and therein lay his biggest fear: if something went wrong, it'd cease to be an act, and whatever Hermann had planned would go off without a hitch. That terrified him. He'd seen dozens of action flicks where the bad guy kept his plan close to the chest until the final moments, when only a miracle could stop him. Generally, the miracle came, and everyone cheered and the bad guy got locked away.

The difference between those guys and Hermann? Hermann didn't believe in miracles. He believed in numbers, and his numbers never lied. If Hermann had his scheme figured, it'd wouldn't fall to some last-minute tricks. As far as anyone else was concerned, only Newton stood between the world and whatever Hermann had prepared for it.

He understood why Becket retired now. This fucking _sucked_.

* * *

 

 

Newton Drifted with ALICE again the next day, and it sucked just as much as the last time. Possibly more, since now he had to act like he enjoyed it, or at least welcomed it. Hermann smiled as Newt put the Pons headset on himself, looked so proud as he pulled the trigger and sent Newton flying back into the Precursor mind.

This time, Newt paid attention.

Drifting with Hermann had felt like diving into a swimming pool after sitting in the sun for too long. Even with Otachi mixed in, Hermann and Newton's minds had melded in a way that he could only describe as “right”. Drifting with ALICE felt like being steamrolled into a pile of molten asphalt. Every neuron, every synapse caught fire with garbled information, whispers in a language he could not decipher, and above all that, a penetrating sensation of malice. He did his best to focus his mind on searching for something, anything that would point him in the right direction.

_Please don't make me do this I love him I love him don't you understand please please I beg you_

 

Hermann removed the headset and Newton emerged from the Drift with words etched into his mind, Hermann's voice repeating them over and over again. He groaned and held his head as Hermann gently stroked his hair.

“There, there. You did better this time.” He smiled, running his fingers down Newton’s neck. “I’ll bring the data for us to examine while we eat. It’ll take a while for it to collate, so why don’t you rest in my office until you feel better? I’ll bring up lunch after my meeting with Liwen.”

“Nngh...y-yeah, babe, sounds great.” Newt grinned, despite the pounding pain in his temples. “Hey, does she know about me? That I’m here?”

“No. I haven’t told her yet, she’s been extremely busy and I’ve not wanted to bother her with that. There’s nothing wrong with it. I’ve told her about you before, how I thought you’d fit in perfectly, how I wished we could collaborate again.”

Newt laughed hoarsely. “Well..dreams _do_ come true, huh?” He pulled Hermann down by the lapels of his jacket and pressed a hard kiss to his lips, which he reciprocated, leaning over him and resting his weight on the arms of Newton’s chair.

“You’re perfect, Newton. Simply divine.” He caressed Newton’s cheek. “I’ll be back soon. Can you make it to the office on your own?”  
  
“I’ll be alright, yeah. Just need a second to gather myself.” Hermann nodded.  
  
“Take your time. I’ll be right here.” _Dammit._ Of course he wouldn’t let Newton stay in here alone. Hermann waited around until Newton could stand, then walked him to the elevator.

“Thanks, Herm.” Hermann squeezed his hand.

“Of course, love. Rest now, and I'll see you soon.” Newton smiled thinly and turned away, choosing not to look into Hermann's dead eyes. Newton chewed his lip all the way up to Hermann’s office, where Elaine sat working diligently at her computer on what looked like transcriptions of Hermann’s notes. “Hey, Elaine.” After finishing a line of typing, she looked up at him and smiled. Newt froze dead in his tracks.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Geiszler. The door’s unlocked.” He nodded and entered, closing the door behind him and leaning against it wearily.

 _He’d made her Drift with ALICE._ When she looked at him, he had seen the same dead look in her eyes, the same cold smile. _That’s_ how Hermann had learned about Newton’s whereabouts so quickly, how she knew when to call him, why she suddenly decided to use her manners. A cold sweat formed on his forehead and he tried to calm down, but his mind went spinning. How many more people in this damn company had Hermann brainwashed?

He made his way to Hermann’s desk and sat down, putting his head in his hands. No. Think. Hermann couldn’t just pull people in there willy-nilly, he’d give himself away. Nah, he’d chosen very carefully who to pull in, and Elaine made perfect sense. His secretary, his gatekeeper. He’d want her in on everything, and more importantly, he’d want her _loyal._ And now he’d drifted with ALICE, too. If anything looked fishy, she’d tell him, but chances were good that Hermann hadn’t taken anyone else. He couldn’t afford to.

A cursory search of Hermann’s office revealed next to nothing: his desk contained essentials, nothing more. The books on his shelves had titles like _Reality Is Not What It Seems_ and _In Search of Schrodinger’s Cat,_ super generic shit covering quantum mechanics that Hermann had probably read when he was ten. Nothing behind the boring paintings, no hidden safes or compartments. The only thing he’d forgotten about was the picture frame facedown on the desk. By some miracle, they hadn’t knocked it off earlier.  

Newt turned it over. Inside the frame sat the picture they’d taken ten years ago, after the Breach sealed, after the apocalypse fucked off, after Raleigh and Mako saved the day. Newton had his arm hooked around Hermann, and Hermann looked over at him with an expression of fondness and contentment. He hadn’t seen him make that face. He’d been distracted by the camera shoved in his face and the sound of cheering and his self-importance ringing in his ears. But through all that chaos, Hermann only had eyes for Newt.

Newton lifted up his glasses, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Goddammit. Since when had he gotten this emotional? _Oh, I dunno, Newt, since you fell in love with Hermann twenty years ago and then refused to acknowledge it until you were literally balls deep in each other’s headspaces._ Right. He traced the line of Hermann’s face with his thumb, then pulled the frame up against his chest, hunched over the desk as if he’d been kicked in the gut. For the first time, he understood what ten years had robbed from him, and the recognition of that void hurt him like nothing ever had before.

After everything he’d seen here, that clinched it. After all the time he’d spent with Hermann over the past few days, not once had he seen that sparkle of life in his face. Not once had he looked at Newt with that look of pure joy and adoration. Not once. They’d taken that spark from him.

Newt would take it back.

* * *

 

The next two days he spent planning his next move. Thankfully, the closer the Council presentation came, the more time Shao and their various associates demanded of Hermann, and as a result he’d slacked off on their rendezvous with ALICE. Newt wasn’t sure how many more times he could handle that before his brain melted and poured out his ears. In all honesty, he’d expected worse. After all, he’d already Drifted with a Kaiju before-- _twice._ What made him different than Hermann?

_Maybe he shouldn’t have Drifted with you in Hong Kong after all. Maybe you should have stopped him. Maybe this is your fault._

Newton shook his head hard and pushed his hair back out of his eyes, muttering to himself. “Shut the fuck up and figure out how to fix it, Geiszler.”

He knew he’d have to accomplish one of two things: get into the lab and transfer Hermann’s data without him noticing, or record Hermann confessing his plan. Neither of those sounded particularly easy, but Newt knew that he could trick a keypad easier than Hermann. If he couldn’t figure out the password (which was likely, Hermann always came up with some complicated shit), then he’d have to hotwire the door open, which would likely cause an alarm to go off. If that happened, he’d have to get the data fast and run.

Goddammit, he wished the Council wasn’t having their stupid meeting about those stupid drones. If everyone wasn’t so fucking distracted, they could just come down here and see Hermann for themselves. Newt could show them the secret lab door and they’d cut it open with lasers or some shit. They’d arrest Hermann. Drifting with a Kaiju brain might not qualify as a crime, but doing so under the auspices of Shao Industries? Tampering with their property? Definitely a finable offense, at least. Once they had him in custody, they’d all see that Newt had been right, and he could rub it in everyone’s faces and everything would go back to normal.

Wishful thinking, but hey--a man could dream, right?

Unfortunately, Newton learned soon enough that Hermann spent all of his time in the lab when not preoccupied by meetings and service to Shao, which meant if he broke in, Hermann would know something had gone wrong. Which meant...waiting until Newton _knew_ that Hermann couldn’t come back. He could only think of one moment where Hermann would definitely, conclusively couldn’t come check on his data: during the Council meeting. He planned on demonstrating his new drones, to provide the Council with ample incentive to invest, and that would take a long time. .

That cut it _awfully_ damn close. Mako needed that evidence before the vote. According to the itinerary, which he’d swiped off Elaine’s desk, they’d convene for the presentation by 9, break for an early lunch, and then vote by noon. That gave Newt enough time to secure what he needed and send it to Mako, but only if everything went off without a hitch.

Three hours. No pressure.

Hermann had risen early that morning, and when Newt woke up, he’d already showered and dressed. Newt watched as he brushed his hair away from his face, fastened his cufflinks and knotted his tie at his throat. Not a hair or fold out of place. Newt almost felt guilty ripping this away from him, this composure and confidence that Hermann had never possessed before this.

_He’s Drifting with a fucking Kaiju brain, Newt. Get real._

“Good morning.” Hermann spoke as he finished straightening his suit jacket. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Nah, just didn’t sleep great.” Newt rose and yawned, trying his best not to look like he was about to piss himself from nerves. Hermann turned and sat on the bed beside him, pressing a kiss to Newton’s jaw.

“I wish I could stay and make you feel better, but duty calls.”

“Y-yeah. Hey, you don’t worry about me. Focus on nailing this vote. Kick its ass.” Newt grinned, and Hermann’s eyes narrowed as he smiled.

“I plan to. Don’t worry, all this will end soon...and then we can spend as much time together as we please.”  Newton really didn’t like the way he said that, but Hermann’s mouth was on his and he didn’t get a chance to respond. “Wish me luck.” With that, Hermann took his cane and walked away, leaving Newt alone in the bed. “I’ve made us reservations for the victory dinner. I think you’ll love it.” He called back as he made his way out the door.

Victory dinner? Fuck, he _really_ didn’t like this.

Newt began throwing on his clothes as soon as Hermann left the apartment, his mind spinning as he tried to focus on what he needed to do. Truth be told, he hadn’t _really_ taken the time to hypothesize about what Hermann planned to do, but if he had connections to the Precursors, he suspected the endgame sounded a lot like “total planetary annihilation”.

Yanking on his boots, he put together his toolkit: a tiny screwdriver and some pliers, a tablet he swiped from the laboratory while Hermann wasn’t looking, and the notebook from Hermann’s desk. He figured that by the time Hermann noticed it was gone Newton would have already failed, and it’d be easier to have it on hand than to fiddle with his phone. He shoved all of these things into the backpack he’d brought from his hotel room and slung it over his shoulder.

No going back now.

He made his way across the street and into the Shao Industries building. Luckily, people packed the foyer wall-to-wall, and it wasn’t hard for Newt to duck behind some of the taller folks and make his way to the elevator. Before he did, he scanned the room for Mako, who he saw speaking directly to Marshall Hansen and one of Shao’s other representatives. _Damn_ , no time to talk to her. He’d have to dive right in.

He made his way up to the Kaiju lab, empty save for a skeleton crew of scientists tending to the specimens. Of course, when the elevator doors opened they looked over to him in confusion, one looking to the others and saying something in Mandarin. _Great,_ no Hermann to translate this time.

“Uh, hey! Um...look, you need to get outta here, uh...Dr. Gottlieb’s orders. Really.” One of the scientists put her hands on her hips.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, thank God, you speak English.” She rolled her eyes.

“Most of us do. Why are you here? Dr. Gottlieb told us we’d be alone down here today.” The other scientists moved closer, their eyes wary.

“Umm, you know, no big deal, okay? Just--” _Fuck, fuck, fuck, think!_ “Look, if you really don’t believe me, why don’t you go talk to his secretary? I bet old Huxley will set you straight--” The scientists muttered to each other irritably. “Yeah, you all know she’s the worst!”

“Fine, we’ll go, but you had better believe we will be following up with Dr. Gottlieb as soon as possible.” The scientists filed onto the elevator and Newt resisted the urge to pump his fist. He’d have to thank Elaine next time he saw her, assuming he lived through this.

Newton made his way to the hidden door in the back wall and pressed the panel Hermann had shown him, revealing the keypad. “Alright, Hermann, let’s hope this works.” He reached down to pull out his tools, but hesitated for a moment when he remembered the numbers he’d seen Hermann type into the keypad. He'd seen most of them, maybe... Newt punched them in, trying his best to remember the sequence, but the keypad lit up with a burst of red light. “Shit! Seriously?!” Newton growled and whipped out his screwdriver, hands shaking as he worked quickly to remove the front plate of the keypad. “Dammit, Geiszler, had to try and cheat, didn’t you? What the hell did you think this was, Street Fighter?”

The plate finally popped off, revealing a series of wires behind it, which he immediately began snipping with the pliers. One of these _had_ to release the door, right?

“Try the blue wire.” A voice behind Newt made him scream and nearly jump out of his skin. One of the scientists hadn’t left with the rest, a young man with tousled hair and tired eyes.

“W-what?”

“The blue one. I’m pretty sure that keypad is the same as all the rest in the building. It should release the locking mechanism on that door.” Newton glared suspiciously.

“How the fuck--why are you telling me this?” The scientist sighed wearily,

“I’m in here a lot, doing extra hours. I’ve seen Dr. Gottlieb come in here alone before. Sometimes he doesn’t notice me when he comes down here, and I’ve seen him open this up. I don’t know what he keeps inside, but I cannot imagine there’s anything good in there.”

“Well, you’d be right.” Newt snorted. “Very observant.”

The scientist nodded. “Try it. The blue wire.”

“Alright, man.” Newt swallowed and snipped the wire, and sure enough, the door emerged and slid open. “Shit, dude, you did it!”

“You’re welcome. I-I should go, I don’t want him to find me here if--”

“Yeah, yeah, no problem. Thank you, dude, you’re the best!” The scientist ran off as Newt hurried into Hermann’s secret laboratory, shooting a nasty look at Alice as he sat his backpack down on Hermann’s desk. “Hey, you nasty bitch, how’s it hangin’?” Pulling his tablet from his bag, he began the process of decrypting Hermann’s files, rerouting all of the data to Mako and the Shatterdome. He pulled out his phone and called her, nervously watching the elevator.

“Newt?”

“Mako! I made it, I’m sending you everything from his computer, okay? Everything he’s been working on.” She lowered her voice noticeably.

“What did you find?”

“I dunno yet, I’m taking everything. I’m gonna look now.” He propped the phone up on his shoulder as he began scanning through the files. “Whoa-ho, here we go. Drone Protocols, Drone Specifications, Drone Coding...Drone Hybridization? Hmmm, Hermann, what’s the deal with that?” He clicked on the file. It took less than a minute for Newton to realize what he’d just seen. The blood drained out of his face and he dropped down into the chair behind him.

“Newton, I have to go, I--”  
  
“Mako.” Newton’s voice shook as he spoke. “Y-You can’t let Shao win this vote. Hermann’s…”  
  
“I’m sorry, Newt, I can’t talk now. I’ll look at the files as soon as I can.” Mako hung up, but Newton didn’t move, stunned by what he’d just found: blueprints of the drones that Hermann had helped Shao design and code, overlaid with what Newton immediately recognized as Kaiju physiology, DNA, molecular structures. Somehow, Hermann had found a way to fuse top-of-the-line Jaeger technology with that of the Precursors to create what Newton could only describe as monsters. If Mako didn’t manage to get this to the Council before the vote, they’d replace every standard Jaeger on the planet. Newt knew he’d end up at this conclusion eventually, but to think that Hermann could ever--

Newton’s breath hitched as he felt a pair of familiar hands close upon his shoulders with a vice grip.  

“Newton, I’m disappointed. I thought you and I… well, I suppose I thought wrong, didn't I? What a clever performance.”

“H-hermann…” Newton shook with fear and adrenaline, cursing himself for losing control of himself like this. _Dammit,_ he should have watched the elevator, should have been more careful.

“Your telephone, please.” Hermann slid his hand down and took it from Newt’s, pocketing it. “Thank you.”

“How? How did you know?”

Hermann chuckled softly. “You put in the wrong password. The alarm is synced with my watch. I knew it must be you. How disappointing.” Newton closed his eyes, trying to calm his breathing. Hermann had thought of everything, but why was that so surprising? He'd had ten years to plan all this and more importantly, the razor focus to do it right.  
  
Newt finally summoned up the nerve to stand up and face him. “Hermann...listen, whatever you're planning, you can’t--you cannot do this.”  Hermann’s eyes burned with anger, but smiled nonetheless. The effect sent a chill down Newt’s spine. “What the fuck are you thinking?!”

“Don’t you know? You’ve always fancied yourself so much smarter than me, so much more talented and clever. You tell me.” Hermann folded his hands over the head of his cane matter-of-factly. “After all, you’ve already won, haven’t you? You’ve transferred all my data to Miss Mori, who will review it at lunch, take it to the Council, and have the vote dismissed. Isn't that what you are counting on?”

“Come on, Hermann. After what I just saw, I know that’s not gonna stop you now.” Hermann laughed coldly.

“You’re so right. I can remotely activate the drones, regardless of whether this pathetic vote works to my advantage.” Hermann’s brow knitted together, his mouth tense. “Unfortunately, it appears that you’re currently standing between me and my big red button.”

“Well, damn. Isn’t that a crying shame?” Newt suddenly threw his backpack into Hermann’s face, startling him long enough to tackle him head-on, ramming him out of the lab and onto the floor. Newt grunted in pain as his knees hit the tile hard.

“Newton, you’re making a terrible mistake.” Hermann grabbed Newt by the hair and slammed his head into the floor, cracking the lenses of his glasses. Pain blossomed across his forehead. He felt Hermann’s breath on his ear as he leaned in close, whispering. “You can’t stop this. Nothing can.”

“One thing can.” Newt writhed out of Hermann’s grasp and punched him squarely in the jaw. Hermann rose to his feet and grabbed his cane, slamming it down once, twice, three times into Newton’s back. Newt rolled out of the way, gasping in pain. “C-come on, Herms...you’re in there. I know you are.” He panted, pulling himself up to his feet. Holy _shit,_ that hurt.

“Your faith in me is commendable, Newton. Alas, what you see is what you get.” Hermann charged him, swinging his cane at Newton’s head. He ducked down and rolled under a counter to put distance between them again.

Newt couldn’t win this fight; he knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt. Despite Hermann’s disability, he trumped Newton in physical strength easily, and whatever the Precursors had done to him had only made him tougher. If anything, having trouble with his leg made him even stronger everywhere else, having to compensate for it most of his adult life. If Hermann wanted to kill Newton, he could.

“You know, Newton...when it comes right down to it, you're to blame for all this.” Hermann smirked, moving slowly around the counter like a wolf circling its cornered prey.

“What? The fuck’s that supposed to mean? I'm trying to _stop_ you from ending the world, asshole!” Newton threw a chair at Hermann, who blocked it with his arm and staggered back for a moment. “Remember? Like we did before? Together? ‘Cancelling the apocalypse’! What the fuck is this change of heart?”

“Ah, you see--agh!” Hermann touched his cheek where the chair had broken skin and drawn blood. “That's what I mean, Newton. You Drifted with that bloody Kaiju, and when you had to do it again, I couldn't just let you do it alone. Not after seeing how it ruined you, how it tore into your mind and nearly…” Hermann's brows softened for a moment, his face taking on a look almost like regret. “I very nearly lost you. I couldn't let you Drift with it alone again.”

Newt laughed desperately, feeling tears sting at the corners of his eyes. “So you're blaming me for...for what? Caring about me? Boy, that does sound just like you, Hermann! Blaming someone else for your feelings!”

“ At any rate, fault matters very little at this juncture, Newton. In a way, you did me a tremendous favor. Look at me. Look at what I've accomplished.” Hermann raised his arms to gesture to the lab around them. “I've created something unparalleled, something that nobody will ever surpass! I've--”

“You call the deaths of eight billion people an accomplishment?!” Hermann cocked his head slightly to the side, blinking owlishly, as if confused by what Newt said.

“Well...yes. That _is_ the point, Newton.”

“Not gonna happen, Hermann!” Newt charged Hermann again, slamming him against the wall and knocking the wind out of him.

“Newton--” Hermann coughed and sputtered as he caught his breath, and Newt grabbed the cane out of his hand. “I w-wanted so badly for you to be there beside me, at the end of everything. It's...all that I wanted.” Hermann's arm suddenly shot out, his hand closing around Newt's throat. Newt struggled against him, but to no avail--his grip was so damn tight… “Then again, you never really cared about what I wanted. Always so selfish.”

“That--nngh! Not true...aggh--” Newt felt his consciousness slipping away, but just as he was about to go under, Hermann let him go and threw him to his knees, the cane clattering on the floor beside him. Hermann picked it up, turning it in his hand.

“Newton...you never learn, do you? You should have _stayed_ out of Our _business_.” Hermann smirked, smacking the head of the cane across Newton's face once, then again. “I'd let you live, but you know, I think you've earned the hero's death you long so desperately for. The death of a martyr to a doomed world.” Hermann pulled at the head of his cane and twisted, and a long blade emerged. Newt would have thought it was super cool, if Hermann wasn't literally about to murder him with it. Newt coughed and tried to rise, but Hermann kicked him onto his back and stepped down on Newton's chest.

“H-hermann…” Newt’s tears ran freely now, rolling down his neck and under his shirt collar. He'd know the certainty of death before, but this...nothing compared to knowing death at the hands of the man he loved. “P-please, please, Hermann, sweetheart…” His chest heaved with a sob underneath Hermann's foot. “Don't do this. Please. I love you. I love you so much, Hermann…”

“Goodbye, Newton Geiszler.” Hermann knelt and held the knife over Newt's chest, about to shove it into his ribcage when suddenly, he stopped. Time seemed to stop with it, and Newt watched the minute changes that came over Hermann's face as if in slow motion. Pain, sorrow, fury, loss. Hermann dropped the blade and crawled back, away from Newt. “Oh--oh my God, what have I done?”

“N-nothing yet, Herm. You don't h-have to do any of it…” Newt tasted blood and wiped his mouth, coming away with a bright streak of red on the back of his hand.

“Newton, you don’t understand. They won’t let me--” Hermann’s face contorted into a look of pure malice. “You little bastard. We should have killed you when We first had the chance. We should have known.”

“Should have known what? That I wouldn’t buy into your genocide bit? Yeah, everyone thinks I’m so crazy about Kaiju--nngh…” Newton struggled to a sitting position, his chest aching from where Hermann had stepped on him. “Isn’t it funny how _you_ ended up becoming the mad scientist?”

“Be quiet, you wretch.” Hermann muttered, but not to Newton. He set his jaw, eyes screwed shut as he spoke through clenched teeth. “I will not lay another hand on him.”

“Hermann...come on, you can fight them! You can fight it!” Newton’s entire body ached, but he crawled on his hands and knees to Hermann nonetheless. Hermann protested, inching away across the floor.

“No! Stay away from me!”  
  
“No can do, Herms. Guess I’m a glutton for punishment.” Newton reached out and wrapped his arms around Hermann, pressing his lips to the top of his head and hugging him to his chest. “Come on, babe. We can fix this. It’s gonna be okay.”

“Newton, _please_ just kill me. End this now, I beg you.” Hermann looked up at him, tears streaming down the sides of his face.

“Hermann, I could never kill you--” A gunshot rang out in the lab, and Newt felt a wave of hot pain bloom between his shoulders. He turned his head and let out a ragged laugh when he saw who pulled the trigger.

“If you can’t kill him, then you’ve already signed the death warrant of this world, Geiszler.” Elaine Huxley stood, pointing her gun at Newton with an empty smile on her face. “My apologies.” Newt groaned and fell to the floor, agony shooting up and down his back.

“No...no, dammit, Hermann--aghh, don’t…” Newton looked up at Hermann, who sat crumpled on the floor like a child, his eyes fixed on Newton’s prone form. Newton could already feel his consciousness slipping away again, the pain and trauma too much for his body to bear. _Well, Newt, you tried. Saving the world twice probably wasn’t gonna happen. Solid effort._

Newt smiled weakly up at Hermann as his eyes rolled in the back of his head, and the world went dark, the muffled siren of screams and footsteps ringing in his ears.

* * *

 

_A dream. A memory. Hell, maybe death. He didn't know for sure. Hermann's face glowed in the overhead lights of the Shatterdome entryway, his battered suitcase in his bony hand._

_“You're taller than I thought you'd be, Hermann.”_

_“Oh? Well, thank you, I suppose.”_

_“You're cuter in person, too.”_

_“W-what?! That's patently absurd. Do you flirt so audaciously with everyone you meet?”_

_“Nah. Just the ones I like.”_

* * *

 

Newton woke up sore as hell with a headache stronger than any hangover he'd ever had. He couldn't open his eyes, but he listened and smelled and felt. High pitched beeps, alcohol, too-clean air. Hospital.

He felt someone gently petting his arm, the strong scent of antiseptic. The sound of shuddering breath. Was it his?

“Hurry it up, Gottlieb.”

“There's just a bit more. Please, don't make me rush.” Newton opened one of his eyes, just enough to see the blurry outline of Hermann beside him. What was he doing here? He didn't work here anymore. He closed his eyes again, falling back to sleep.

Another day passed. Newton opened his eyes and rubbed them with the back of his hand, wincing in pain as he wiggled his IV. “Shit…”

“Dr. Geiszler?” A young girl’s voice made him start, and he saw her beside him, or rather, saw the shape of her.

“My glasses…” The girl placed a set of glasses, not his own, on his face. His vision finally came into focus, and he saw a young brunette, her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail and dressed in a rumpled cadet uniform. “Who are you?”

“Amara Namani, sir. I--”

“Nah, don't call me sir. Just Newt, m’kay?” Newt grinned and coughed a bit, his back and sides still sore from the asskicking Hermann had given him. “Hermann.”

“Yeah, Dr. Hermann asked me to come check on you before they took him to his cell.” Newt's eyes widened.

“He's in a cell? Heh, yeah. Guess that makes sense.” Newt stared up at the ceiling. “Dr. Hermann, huh? Kid, how old _are_ you, anyway?”

“15, sir. Newt.” He chuckled.

“Huh. Another prodigy, huh? He lets you call him Dr. Hermann? That's cute.”

“He didn't want me to call him Dr. Gottlieb.”

“Yeah, I can imagine why.” Newt closed his eyes for a while, but found he couldn't do so without visualizing Hermann over him, his hands around his neck and his eyes burning with hatred. He opened them again. “He asked you to check on me?”

“Yeah. He's only been talking about you. Jake said he's been really cooperative, no fights or anything. Although sometimes he says some really creepy stuff.”

“Yeah, you're telling me.” Newt groaned. “Hey kid, can you tilt this bed up for me? I can't reach the damn button.” Amara smiled and pushed it, and the bed rose, allowing Newt to look around. He definitely made it back to the Shatterdome; all the same hustling and bustling around. Things looked… normal. “Guess the world didn't end.”

“Nope. You saved it. Again.” Newton grimaced. _Yeah. Ran_ _my_ _world right off a fuckin’ cliff, though._ ”Jake said you fought him all by yourself.”

“Yeah, badly.” Newt chuckled weakly. “Got jumped by his bitchy secretary. Where is she, by the way?”

“She's actually here. She's having to go through some pretty serious treatment to reverse the brainwashing Dr. Hermann put her through.”

“Shit.” Newt let his head fall back into the pillows, reaching up to touch his tender neck. “And Hermann, he getting treatment, too?”

“Um, yeah, sort of. He's been coming up to see you a lot, actually. The psychiatrist in charge of his treatment said that exposure to your presence helps suppress the voices in his head.”

“You're fucking joking, right? Ah--heh, that's too romantic to be real.” But then, hadn't Hermann backed off after nearly murdering him? Hadn't he cried, begged Newton to end him? Maybe there was something to the shrink's strategy, after all.

“Jake told me you were partners. Like, coworkers. Is that true?”

“Yeah, ten years ago. After we closed the first Breach, he...he helped me. We figured it out together, the science behind what Raleigh and Mako and the rest did.” He had forgotten about Mako, and Hansen too. Hehe, he couldn't wait to rub it in that fascist’s face that he’d been _right._ That would teach him to underestimate Dr. Newton Geiszler.

“Wow, that kinda makes you celebrities, huh?” Amara grinned. “I actually built a Jaeger once, you think you could come take a look at it sometime?”

“You _built_ one? Jeez, what are kids doing these days? Getting six Ph.Ds just isn't enough to stand out anymore.” Newton sighed. “So like, I'm not crippled or anything, right? Elaine shot me in the back.”

A nurse tech came over to his bed, a tablet in hand. “No, Doctor, you're going to make it fairly unscathed. Ms. Huxley wasn't a great shot, brainwashing or not.”

“That's good, heh. So...when can I go see Hermann?” The nurse shook her head.

“Not for a while. You still need a lot of rest. Besides, he'll probably come see you soon. He's come every day, on doctor's orders.”

“Right, right. Kid here was just telling me something like that.” Newt licked his lips. “Can a guy get a glass of water around here?”

* * *

 

Hermann didn't come, not that day or the next, or the one after that. Newton worried something had happened, but nobody knew… or nobody would say. Amara came to visit often, though--a nice kid, she told him all about how she'd learned to drift with her partner, Viktoria; how she and Jake had met; how she built her Jaeger, Scrapper. At least Newt wasn't lonely.

Finally, Newt cleared for discharge, with the ironic caveat that he use a cane to take pressure off his back and legs until he healed completely. He didn't even want to look at it, too fresh were the literal and figurative wounds. They helped him move back into his room, where Mako Mori waited patiently in his desk chair.

“Good morning Newt. It's so good to see you well.” Mako hugged Newt gently, and he reciprocated with his free arm.

“Hey, Mako. You okay?”

“I'm just fine. I wanted to tell you about what happened after you lost consciousness at Shao Industries. It's been too hectic for me to come visit until now, so I decided it would be best just to let you recuperate.”

“Hey, no worries. Let me just…” Newt sat down carefully on his bed, looking around at all his stuff. It felt new and foreign to him, somehow. Was this what near-death did to you? Made everything seem surreal? “So what happened?”

“I did receive your data transmission shortly after you sent it and quickly called the authorities and Liwen Shao. She sent her own officers to take Dr. Gottlieb out, and had the police not caught up, they might have killed him. Luckily, we recovered him unharmed, and Ms. Huxley too.” Mako pushed a hair behind her ear. “As soon as we had you both back, we interrogated him.” Newt felt sick at the thought of Hermann being _interrogated,_ like a criminal. But then again... “He didn't answer any of our questions, at first. When we bribed him with you, and he told us everything.”

“What had he planned to do?” As Mako explained Hermann's master plan, Newton grew pale and the sound of her voice grew distant. The scale of what Hermann had accomplished terrified him; he understood now why he'd been so proud of himself. Newt felt his eyes well up with tears, and he clenched his teeth as he remembered everything Hermann had told him in the lab.

_You never really cared about what I wanted. Your fault. Selfish._

“So you see, we had to--Newt?” Newton choked on a sob and struck his knee with his fist.

“My fault. This was all my fault. I...I let him go over there all by himself, _knowing_ he'd get lonely and…” Mako rushed to his side and embraced him.

“No, no, you had no control over this, Newton.”

“I did! You know what he--he told me? _'All I wanted was to have you by my side.’_ He spent ten years in that fucking company, all alone, Drifting with a Kaiju to make up for the fact that I was too fucking stubborn to just… pay a fucking visit! I got so angry that he'd consider leaving me, his _partner,_ coworker, what the fuck ever, that I-- I couldn't see that maybe, there was another reason why he'd do something so out of left field. I couldn't see past my own fucking ego, my hurt feelings. And now he's…” Newt wanted to scream, but his body ached all around the sobs wracking his chest. “Hermann...goddammit…”

“Hush, now. It's alright, Newton. He's safe now, recovering. You'll get to see him again.”

“Guess the fucking government is gonna have his head on a platter soon, right? Gotta have their fucking sacrifice to appease the masses.” Newton sniffled, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his shirt.

“No. He won't face charges, but...he's lost all of his freedoms, at least until a psychiatrist can declare him fully recovered.”

“So a prisoner in all but name. Oughta chuck me in there with him.” Newton scoffed.

“Would you like to see him today?” Mako offered, smiling gently. “I think speaking to him might help you work through these feelings you're having.”

Newton heaved a shuddering sigh, wiping the corners of his eyes with his fingers. “Yeah. I'd like that a lot.”

“I'll make it happen, don't worry. Just rest for now. You're going to have a lot of people wanting your time soon. You _did_ save the world again.”

“Boy, Mako, I wish people would stop telling me that.” Mako's brow knitted in concern.

“Why?”

Newton scowled. “I don't feel like I've saved shit. Yeah, ok, technically I stopped Hermann from blowing us all straight to Hell, whoopee, crack open the champagne or whatever. You know what I _wish_ I had done? Crawled out of my own ass and treated him right.”

“Oh, Newton.” Mako pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Please, be gentle with yourself. I'll see about having a visit scheduled for you and Hermann soon.” With that, Mako left Newton alone, the silence buzzing in his ears and the lump in his throat fit to burst.

* * *

 

“You sure you wanna do this, mate?” Pentecost Jr. asked, his hands in his pockets and his brow furrowed. It hadn’t taken long for Mako to arrange his meeting with Hermann, thankfully. He’d gotten a bit of sleep, but most of the wait had been spent pacing around his room, throwing things, and coming up with a thousand things to say to Hermann. He wasn’t gonna back down now.

“Open the door.” Newton glared up at him. “I wanna see him.”

“Okay, okay. Jeez.” Jake punched in the code and hesitated over the enter key. “Look, uh...don't be surprised if he acts squirrely. He's not been doing all that great.”

“Yeah, I _know_ , dude. So let me in and I'll help.” _Or I'll provoke him and make it ten times worse, whatever came first._ Jake hit the button and the door slid open, revealing Hermann seated on his cot, his eyes downcast and hands in his lap, palms up. His cane--his old cane, his _real_ cane-leaned up against the wall, and a book or two sat on the desk adjacent. “At least you fascists gave him something to read.”

At the sound of Newton's voice, Hermann's head snapped up to attention. Jake hadn't lied; Hermann looked like hell warmed over. His eyes seemed to sink into their sockets, bruised from lack of sleep. His lip still sported a split from where Newton had hit him with the chair in the lab. He'd even grown a little stubble--Newton had always wondered whether Hermann could even _do_ that. He hadn't wanted to find out _this_ way.

“Hey.” He started, limping in and pulling Hermann's chair over to the bed, sitting down gingerly to avoid hitting his back against it.

“Good day, Newton.” Hermann's voice cracked with exhaustion (anguish?) as he spoke, and Newton felt like crying again.

“ _‘Good day?’_ The fuck is this, _Masterpiece Theatre?”_ Hermann didn't laugh. “Tough crowd.”

“Why are you here, Newton?” Hermann's head dropped back into his lap. “What business could you possibly have with me?”

“Umm, really? You're gonna pull that on me?” Newt laughed a little too loudly. “Buddy, I feel like we have a metric fuckton of business to attend to, don't you?”

“I suppose you're right.”

“Hermann, look at me, please. Don't sit there like a kicked puppy.” Hermann shook his head.

“I can't.” He answered, his voice barely a whisper and full of emotion. “Not after what I did to you.”

“Hermann.” Newton repeated, firmer this time. “Look at me.” He obeyed this time, slowly raising his head and pushing his hair back, away from his forehead. _God_ , Newt wanted to reach out and kiss him, hold him, tell him it'd be alright. Maybe he should have, but he didn't. “Tell me what happened.”

“Didn't Mako inform you?”

“Don't bullshit me, Herm. Tell me what happened to _you._ ” Newton eased off, biting his tongue. “Please. I wanna know.”

Hermann sighed deeply. “I couldn't ask anyone else to bear the burden of Drifting with that Kaiju. My experiment, my responsibility. I just didn't expect any of this to happen, Newton. Even when I felt the Precursors taking hold, I convinced myself that I had to push forward, finish my research. It could change _everything._ Now, I see I should never have continued. I should have shut it all down.” Newton sat silently for a moment, stared at Hermann shaking like a leaf, pale and wan.

“Hermann, this isn't your fault.”

“Who else could possibly be to blame, Newton?! It was _my choice! My_ choice to Drift with a bloody Kaiju brain after nearly losing you to one, after seeing the damage it caused, after knowing how powerful the Precursor mind can be! I did it anyway!”

“Yeah, Hermann. You did, and I let you.” Newt swallowed hard as Hermann's eyes widened in distress.

“No! Oh, no, Newton, this wasn't your fault. None of this--I should have--” Newt lifted his hand.

“Hermann. I didn't call you for six months. You know why? I spent that time pouting because you chose to leave instead of staying here with me. I ignored your voicemails. I didn't answer your emails. I left you. I'll own up to it.”

“Newton, please. You don't have to do this, I--”

“No, Hermann, I _do_ have to, and I'll tell you why. Because as soon as I set foot outside and start living my life again, all I'll hear about is what a fucking hero I am. I saved the world _again,_ what a goddamn victory for us. For me.” Newton laughed bitterly. “They'll never know what really happened: that if I had just gotten my head out of my ass and reached out to you, maybe I wouldn’t had needed to save the world.”

“Newton…” Hermann’s eyes welled up with tears, his bottom lip quivering.

“That’s not fair, Herm. It’s not fair that I’m gonna get all this glory when I could have prevented this from happening.” Now Newt’s eyes burned as well, and he felt his vision going blurry. The two of them sat in silence for a while, the conversation exhausted and withering. After a moment, Newt finally spoke again. “Did you...come into the medical bay while I slept? A couple days ago, maybe?” Hermann blushed and wiped his eyes.

“Yes, I wanted--” Hermann started again. “I asked Jake if I could help care for you, since I caused you such grievous harm. He said I could, as long as I had an armed guard with me.” That pushed Newton’s tears over the edge of his lashes and down his cheeks.

“You took care of me?” The sad smile that curled the edges of Hermann’s mouth brought more tears to Newt’s eyes. _Goddammit,_ he didn’t wanna lose his composure like this.

“Newton. Of course I did. How could I sit here while you suffered alone, knowing I could do something, _anything_ to help?” Newt rose to his feet and sat on the edge of Hermann’s cot, right beside him, and Hermann recoiled. “Newt--Newton, no, you shouldn’t--”

“I”m not afraid of you, Hermann.” He put his hand behind Hermann’s neck and nuzzled his cheek, pressing a kiss to it. “I’m not afraid.” Hermann pressed his forehead to Newton’s shoulder, breathing deeply the smell of him and wrapping his thin arms around him.

“Oh, Newton…” They stayed this way, curled around each other, until Jake returned for Newt and escorted him back to the medical bay. Newt laid in bed, his hand on his neck, remembering the feeling of Hermann’s wet cheek against it, letting the memory of his name on Hermann’s lips lull him back to sleep. _“Newton…”_

* * *

Time passed, and Newton healed. As soon as that happened, he hopped right up the ass of the Council. At this point, Hermann had been in that cell for nearly two weeks. His psychiatrist, some useless Harvard head job who didn't know a damn thing about Drifting, insisted that Hermann needed to stay away from the job and the lab and everything else Hermann cared about in his life to avoid “relapse”, like he was a fucking drug addict instead of a victim. And the Council sure as hell wasn’t interested in arguing.

“The Gottlieb “situation”? For real? He's a man, not a fucking situation.” Newton growled at the actual President of the United States, something that he figured he’d be proud of probably forever.

“Dr. Geiszler, I don’t appreciate your tone--”

“I don’t appreciate you calling Dr. Gottlieb a fucking situation!” Mako stepped forward and touched Newton’s shoulder, motioning for him to back down.

“Mr. President, please. Can we consider...a compromise? Mr. Geiszler has informed me that he will do anything necessary to help Dr. Gottlieb reintegrate into society effectively. Why don’t we allow Dr. Gottlieb and Dr. Geiszler to live together for a while--under surveillance, of course--and go from there? Let Dr. Gottlieb have a normal life, or at least as normal a life as possible. Living in a cell won’t help him, but maybe seeing the sun and breathing fresh air will, just as a familiar face may help him stay grounded to reality.” The Council mediated for a moment, then the President responded.  
  
“If Gottlieb’s psychiatrist signs off on it, then I’ll allow it. I want armed guards no less than 500 ft from the premises, and I want Gottlieb tagged. Understood?”  
  
“Yes, sir. The Marshall and I will ensure everything is done properly.” The viewscreen flickered off, and Newton blinked in awe at Mako.

“Did you just...score me and Hermann a house together?” Mako smiled mischievously.

“Sometimes, you get what you want by talking, not yelling.” Newton rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in the air

“Come _on,_ I got to yell at the _President._ Arguably worth it.” Newton followed Mako down the hall, skipping every once in a while in excitement. “So where d’you think we’ll live? Like, back home?”

“I doubt that. You’ll likely stay in China, at least for now. I hope to find something in the country, somewhere the two of you can spend time together without having to worry about Kaiju and Jaegers for a while. I know that won’t satisfy either of you for long, but...it’s a start. Would you like to be the one to tell Hermann?” Newton grinned from ear to ear, shoving his hands in his front pockets.

“You better believe it.” The two of them headed off to Hermann’s cell. At the very least, they’d let him bring in more personal belongings, and it actually almost looked like a real room, save for the security camera in the corner and the shitty bed. Hermann looked up from a book when they entered his room and smiled when he saw Newton waving obnoxiously behind Mako.

“Miss Mori, Newton.” Hermann took his glasses off, letting them hang around his neck. “It’s good to see you both again.”

“Newton has some news for you, Hermann. I’ll let him tell you, I need to get back to the comm center. Have a good evening, both of you.” With that, Mako bowed her head and left Newton and Hermann alone

Newton nearly pounced on the bed next to Hermann, who shoved him away half-heartedly. “You clumsy--ah, I’m sorry.”

“No! No, Hermann, _please_ insult me. You haven’t insulted me in years!”  
  
Hermann chuckled. “Was that really so commonplace that you missed it?” He laughed harder when Newton’s grin grew even wider. “Very well. You oaf, you buffoon, you silly wonderful man. What news have you from the surface world?”

“You wanna live together?” Hermann’s face grew still and his eyes widened.

“What? I--Newton, you’re serious? Live with you?”

“Yeah! It’s part of your “therapy”, or as I like to call it, “extended honeymoon”. Sound fun?”

“Extended honeymoon? What on earth are you prattling on about, certainly you--”

“Exactly what it sounds like. I wanna grow into an old grouchy bastard with you, and this is just the start, you know? We lost ten years, Hermann. I wanna get them back, and then some.”

“...Newton.” Hermann grew solemn for a moment. “You know, they’re still there. In the back of my mind. Sometimes I think--” Newton put a finger to Hermann’s lips and shook his head.

“Uh-uh. I’m gonna stop ya right there, buddy. You didn’t answer my question. You wanna live with me or not?” Hermann dropped his shoulders and sighed in defeat, a weary smile on his face.

“Newton, I’d like nothing more in the world than to live with you. Absolutely nothing.”

“Well, great. I yelled at the President and got us a house, so you can thank me later.” Hermann rolled his eyes, closing his book and setting it aside on the mattress.

“Yes, I’m sure that’s _exactly_ how it happened.” Newton’s heart leapt into his chest, and he took Hermann’s face into his hands and kissed him hard. He felt his body melt naturally into Hermann’s, relished the way Hermann’s arms wrapped around his waist and how his head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck as he murmured into his ear.

“God, babe, you’re so sexy when you smart off to me.”

“Never thought I’d hear you say something like _that_.” Hermann chuckled and reciprocated, pressing a softer kiss to Newton’s lips. Newton could do nothing, wanted to do nothing but smile and hold Hermann tight.

“Get used to it, babe. From now on, you’re never gonna hear the end of how much I love you.”

Hermann raised an eyebrow, carding his fingers through Newt’s hair. “Is that a promise, or a threat?” Newt pressed his lips to Hermann’s forehead.

“Better go with both.”

 


End file.
